


Summer Hall

by BellaRisa



Series: Bunker Hall [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consensual Non-Consent, Corporal Punishment, Dean and Sam unrelated, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Discipline, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Tickling, Nothing's really non-consensual but brats don't always agree at the time, Polyfidelity, Sabriel - Freeform, Spanking, Team Dean's Red Ass, Team Free Love, Team Gabe's Red Ass, Tickling, my way, why isn't that a thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:18:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7229674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaRisa/pseuds/BellaRisa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unable to help musing that we were right to pick the house with the highest backyard privacy fence, I pull him down into my lap to just rock us for a moment or three. He comes willingly, subdued by a likely sense of remorse and an obviously sore bottom. He snuggles into me; my comfort in the warmth of his person matched by his comfort in the beating of my heart.</p><p>The summer day seems that much brighter. Sweeter.</p><p>When dealing with naughty little ones, I highly recommend a wide and well-made porch swing. The sturdier the better. Brats in need come in all shapes and sizes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. B is For Bratty, That's Good Enough For Me ;)

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: SUMMER HALL will make WAY more sense if you've read BUNKER HALL first :)  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/7229674
> 
> This took about a week longer than it should have because reasons, thank you all for your patience and enthusiasm and bounciness. I love you all, I really do ♥ Hope you like this!

**Mid-Morning**

"Are you ready to talk to me?"

The red-bottomed boy before me gives no reply, at least not a verbal one. Already facing the corner, he shakes his head "no" as his Sassifier's speed increases; he's still not ready to let go.

Fair enough. We have all the time he needs. Sometimes a 'mad' this big takes awhile.

He doesn't resist when I gently pull him by the back of his t-shirt, just enough to kiss the side of his (adorably) furrowed brow. I hear the snuffle, he's still trying so very hard not to cry; his eyes remained dry all through his spanking, stubborn boy. But he's wearying. Of being angry. With me, with the other two, and especially with himself. It won't be much longer, and again: we have time.

"I'll be on the back porch; you come and find me when you're ready. Otherwise you stay put, unless you'd care to start all over." I let the borderline-naughty huff go, right now he needs time to think more than further discipline. He gasps as I give a small pat--assuring, not meant to hurt--to his berry-colored left hindcheek and head outside. I leave the backdoor open and the screen door closed, I can hear him without buzzing friends filling the house...

I must say that I love this place; once it was discovered/decided that we were all staying in town for various reasons, we were quite pleased when Sam found it; Craigslist does have its uses. A simple two-bedroom ranch, the kitchen is spacious as is the living room. Another bathroom would have been ideal, but we're managing well; the basement, lovely fenced-in backyard, and wrap-around porch more than make up for it. The landlord lives next door; Mr.McLeod is a rather...unsavory character; I cannot for the life of me put my finger on precisely why I find him unsettling, there's just something...false...about him. As though he should be selling defective used cars for terms far too high, with nasty clauses in the fine print...in any case I doubt that I would rent from him long-term. For the summer though, this will do nicely.

And I'm truly enjoying this time with my boys. Speaking of whom...

Maureen is having yet another adventure with Lazarus Long when the screen door finally opens; looking up from To Sail Beyond the Sunset (Heinlein's best in my opinion), there's a sad and shiny-eyed, bare-bottomed little man at my side. Fat, twin teardrops make their way down his cheeks, circling 'round his Sassi before pooling at his ever-so-slightly wobbling chin. Looking for all the world like a once-naughty five-year old ready to say "sorry".

Unable to help musing that we were right to pick the house with the highest backyard privacy fence, I pull him down into my lap to just rock us for a moment or three. He comes willingly, subdued by a likely sense of remorse and an obviously sore bottom. He snuggles into me; my comfort in the warmth of his person matched by his comfort in the beating of my heart.

The summer day seems that much brighter. Sweeter.

When dealing with naughty little ones, I highly recommend a wide and well-made porch swing. The sturdier the better. Brats in need come in all shapes and sizes.

He's playing with the buttons on my shirt, his soundless tears lessened to nearly done. Time to discuss the morning's...issues...and put them behind us. Plucking the Wolverine Sassifier from his lips and sitting him up a bit, I give a kiss to the tip of his nose but a stern gaze meets his subdued, already contrition-filled eyes.

"There's no tolerance for tantrums in this house, young man. You know that. Mind telling me what brought that on, before you go and straighten the mess you caused in the living room?" 

He wants to talk about it, release it, I know he does; he just needs that final push into the right place--

 _"Babriel."_  

Gabriel's eyes snap to mine, widening a bit before he ducks his head into my chest, blushing deeply. That name, that only I can call him. Not even his Sam. Only his Castiel. Stroking his pretty heather curls I give them a soft tug until he's looking up at me once again. 

"You know you can always talk to me, Babriel Mine. Always. So tell me, what made all that Great Big Mad this morning?" 

 

 

**Early Morning**

 

Ever see a car crash about to happen, and you _know_ it's gonna be awful but there's just nothing you can do to stop it? That clench you get in your belly, even though you're not the one about to get dead?

Yeah, that's what it's like when Gabe's having a seriously *Gabe* morning. The sun's gonna shine, the grass'll be green, and Gabe's gonna get himself spanked. And sure, I have days where I join him on the Path of Destruction. Today ain't one of those days, I can see where he's headed and I'm in an ass-preservation kinda mood. 

Sam's sitting cross-legged on the floor at the coffee table; he likes to be in the living room when he's writing out his summer daycare plan-thing...'curriculum', that's it--for the next week. Cas is in our room, drawing as usual, his own table set up so he can see into the living room. Yes, to keep an eye on things, he's Cas. He's not our R.A. right now, since it's summertime, but he's still Castiel. Meaning he still (and forever, probably) kinda keeps us in line. I'd say we don't need it but you'd laugh and I'd wanna punch you...anyway he's totally tracking whatever-the-hell Gabe's doing, and even I keep looking up from my summer-stock _Guys and Dolls_ script to watch Gabe flit around the house like a coked-up gnome; he can't seem to find something to do for more than two minutes. He's always a little fidgety but real Restless Gabe Syndrome means trouble. He was the first one up this morning, and he's already baked cookies (!). Yeah I know that sounds weird but he cooks or bakes something when he's stressed out, says his brother taught him, and he's actually pretty freakin' good at it so no judgement here. I still have one of the oatmeal-raisin he made, on a plate next to my coffee; it's not as amazing as his chocolate-chip but it's still fucking delicious, I give props when they're earned. Meanwhile I'm wondering what he's this upset about; I know Sam sent him to bed early last night, he's been staying up crazy-late working on material for an open-mic he wants to do and between that and his job (at a candy store in town because Gabe) he's been _wiped_. And Wiped Gabe is Grouchy Gabe, who ends up being Red-Assed-in-the-Corner Gabe. I know because I'm the same way, he has my sympathies. Sam's not as good as Cas at heading it off at the pass yet, but he's learning...meanwhile Gabe hasn't said a thing to Sam all morning, he wasn't happy about going to bed early on a Saturday night and now he's ignoring Sam. Who normally wouldn't EVEN tolerate the Silent Treatment (not that he ever really has to since Gabe can't be quiet for more than like eleven minutes), but knowing him he's using the quiet to get his stuff done before he deals with his Crabby Little Love-Mime. He glances at said mime with a small Sam Smirk while he uncurls the tree trunks he calls legs from under the coffee table, and ambles into the kitchen; Gabe watches him go from across the room and suddenly flops down on the sofa with a book, a weird half-evil half-panicky look spreading across his face.

Um...uh-oh.

"Awright Gabe, what did you do...?" He just glares at me, and smiles that nasty little smile of his that clearly means "fuck off." Fine, you're on your own dude. He starts thumbing through his book without reading a thing, I feel myself sinking back into my easy chair and pulling my legs up under me; something's about to go down and even though whatever it is *I* didn't do it, I still feel like--

I hear strange rustling noises, like somebody's raking tiny leaves or something...Sam comes thrumping back into the living room, a mixing bowl In his hand (that's how galoots eat cereal). He pins Gabe with a LOOK and I know without even turning my head that Cas is totally on Red (ass) Alert:

"Gabriel, where did you get the raisins for the cookies you made?" What? Oh no way, he didn't...Gabe just shrugs all curtly and crap, his eyes glued to his book. He DID, oh my fucking god...

 "YOU TOOK ALL THE RAISINS OUTTA MY RAISIN BRAN DIDN'T YOU--?!? WHAT THE HELL IS--ARE YOU--C'MERE!!!" 

Oh my FUCKING god. Darting a glance to mine and Cas' room I can see from his shoulders shaking that even Cas is struggling to keep it together--!

As mellow and easy as Sam is, you do NOT mess with his "Magical Live Forever No Sugar Unicorn Farm" health food that he keeps on HIS special pantry shelf. The raisins were probably made by happy-ass former House Elves like Dobby. No wonder the cookies were so damn good...

Sam is going to end my friend Gabriel's life. Over stolen raisins. And if I laugh I'll be next because if Sam doesn't kill me my Cas will. I tuck my nose and mouth under the top of my shirt and hide behind my script because I _can't_ not laugh, fuck...

Sam is not laughing. He starts toward Gabe, still holding the bowl. Which is how when Gabe throws his book at Sam he hits the big-ass bowl and milky, raisin-less bran goes all over the joint. OH HOLY SHIT NOW IT'S REAL--!!!

 ** _S_** am is UPPERCASE SAM angry. my ass feels like running away from home and I didn't even DO anything...meanwhile Gabe is...quiet. He hasn't moved except to tuck his chin to his chest, his hands balled into fists, and he still hasn't said a word. That's very, very non-Gabe-like behavior. Pranks yes, especially if he's cranky at one of us. Or if it's a day that ends in 'Y', lets be honest. But quiet? _This_ quiet? That's not our Gabe, especially if there's trouble he needs to at least try talking his way out of. Something's wrong here. I know it and apparently so does Cas: And so would Sam if he wasn't so friggin' FURIOUS and about to step over the coffee table and commit Gabe-icide--

 **"Samuel."** I've been too busy watching these two to notice Cas coming in; he puts himself between Sam and Gabe and has a hand on Sam's shoulder; probably the only thing keeping Sam from grabbing Gabe and squeezing him like a Go-Gurt right now. Sam turns his freakin' INTENSE focus to Cas, his chest heaving. And milky. And bran-y. But not raisin-y.

I know I suck and I feel bad for whatever's wrong with Gabe but "Bran Man Sam" will never not be funny. Sue me. 

"Dean," says Cas without taking his eyes from Sam's, "go with Sam to purchase what we need for dinner. The list is on the refrigerator. Sam, grab yourself a dry shirt on your way out." Translation: _"I'll deal with our brat here, he needs my way right now; trust that it'll be alright."_ Cas runs a hand through Sam's hair, like a lion-tamer calming his Cat. It works at least a little; Sam nods, after a minute, and kinda hurls himself toward the front door. Cas hands me his bank card (we all chip in to him on our paydays and he buys whatever's for all of us, like Sunday dinner stuffs) and brings my head close to his; "Buy what we need and keep him out of the house until I text you. Good boy," he whispers. Yes, yes I am a good boy for taking the Abominable Bran Man out for the afternoon, hoping he won't take his wrath out on _me._ The things I do for "good boy!"s and forehead kisses...I grab Sam a clean t-shirt and head out after him.

I'd kill to be a fly on the wall at home. Whatever's up with Gabe has to be pretty effed-up to make him brat Sam that bad...

 

** Late Morning **

 

I knew as soon as I got up today that I was gonna get myself in trouble. I'm _such_ a dumbass; you'd think by now I'd've learned not to try getting my dad excited about, well, fucking anything that's not me giving up comedy. He doesn't care and he never. Fucking. Will. Why I told him about the open mic I wanna do next month...like I said, total moron. And _no_ , I don't say that kinda shit out loud anymore; it's bad enough if Castiel hears me, if Sam does--let's not even go there, okay? I learned my lesson about it and that's all you gotta know for now. Yeah yeah, one day I'll tell you that story; just not now. Right now all I care about is how much trouble I'm in with Sam.

And how much I need Castiel some days. Like today. Make fucking fun of me if you want, but no matter how deep Sam and me get into...whatever-the-fuck we are...and no matter how friggin' amazing he is, sometimes I just need...this.

Being Castiel's

_Babriel_

Good Boy. I totally get why Failchester loves Castiel so hard. Why he's so much less of a 'Van WIlder' douche since they've been a Thing.

I know it's stupid, I know that. But being like this. Talking shit out while he holds me. Nothing un-freaks me the way this does, not when I get like I was this morning.

I hate that. I hate _me_ when I'm like that. Playing dumb pranks and throwing shit and bein' an all-around asshead, when nobody I'm being a jerk to deserves it.

Especially Sam. All he does is look out for me, I *did* need to crash early last night, I was fucking exhausted and everybody could tell. Why do I have to be such an idiot about--everything...

"Talk to me, Sweet Boy. Tell me so it's not all balled up inside." Castiel rubs my cheek and before I know it I'm telling him everything my dad said. And how pissed I was and how I just couldn't take somebody telling me what to do last night, even my Sam...

"...and did you go to Sam, or come to me or to Dean, and tell us that you were hurting?"

"No Sir..." if my head hangs any lower I'll be able to smell my own bellybutton. Shame, I have it.

"What did you do instead?" He's being nice and not really scolding me like I *know* he can, but we both know that's where I fucked up and that I should know better by now.

And that just because he spanked me doesn't mean Sam won't when he gets back. It doesn't work like that. I am so screwed.

"I tried to forget about it, but I just got more and more pissed off. I didn't tell anybody that I needed...somebody...I just got madder and madder and I was a dumbass this morning and--"

"Hand please." Wait, what--oh shit, I said it out loud, dammit--!

"I'm sorry Castiel, please don't!" _I hate it I hate it he's gonna make me cry UGH_

"Hand. Now." Yes I'm fucking pouting as I hold up my right hand; Castiel takes it and smacks the back of it three times.

Once because I broke the rule.

Once because I was mean to someone he cares about.

And once because he loves me. It didn't really hurt, but the sting makes me feel...loved.

And... _little._

And now I'm friggin' teary-eyed again.

Castiel holds my hand to his chest. "If I hear that again this hand will feel my ruler. Are we clear?" I nod, not really able to say anything. I'll fucking cry If I do. I'm lucky, he can tell and doesn't make me.

Instead, he rubs my hand where he just smacked it and he's looking at me; he's super-serious. "No more keeping it to yourself when you need one of us, young man. We're all here for one another. If you need time that's fine, but the next time you take your upset out on us and our home your bottom will have my hairbrush before and* after Sam has his way with you." Oh that ain't right--!

He kisses my forehead (I swear you could sell that feeling and make a zillion dollars) and tips me off his lap. "Inside with you. I want the living room spotless before your nap." I don't want a nap but even I'm not crazy enough to argue right now. Nodding, I sniffle a little (like your nose doesn't run when you cry; fuck off) and start toward the screen door.

"Wait." I turn back toward him; he's...looking at me. Really looking.

"Come back here." Um, okay...I head back to him; he pulls me back down and I'm lying on my side, my head in his lap. He starts the swing rocking, just enough, with his fingers scritching my scalp. 

He knows, he always knows.

"Stay here with me, Sweet Boy. just a little longer. We have time."

** Afternoon **

 

 

If you get the chance (and if he's not mad at *you*), I seriously suggest taking an Angry Giant to the farmer's market. Watching his huge-normous hands throw carrots into a basket is fucking hilarious. So is watching other people watch him doing it; it's like your own personal Godzilla movie. With scared hipsters and organic produce. 

None of us ever have work on Sunday so we all eat together on Sunday night; it's a rule Cas made, and I admit we thought it was corny at first but it's actually pretty nice. Sam and I left the house an hour ago to get stuff we need (and put space between Tom and Jerry so they can both settle the fuck down), and Sam's still ready to _blow_. Actually what he's ready to do is go home and beat Gabe's ass 'til it falls off, and I can't even say I blame him after the epic fit Gabe threw. But as pesky and batshit as Gabe can be I still like him un-murdered. He's like an ice-cream headache, it's worth dealing with the pain for the sweetness. Yeah I just said that, fuck you he's my friend and you gotta admit he's freakin' cute when he wants to be. And sometimes when he doesn't, heh. And just like every now and then Sam's better at dealing with my baloney, there's days when Cas is the only one who can handle the Grouchy Goblin called Gabriel. I still don't even know what his problem is today; I do know his dad called on Friday, which never ends well, and he's been edgy and *wrong* ever since. He usually vents to Sam about it though, or me, and Cas is really good at chillin' Gabe out about stuff when he needs to...this time Gabe didn't talk to anybody.  He just got quieter and quieter, then this morning he just _freaked_ on Sam about a prank he didn't even deny and then when he threw that book and ended up making that big-ass mess--!!! That was rude and psycho under regular living arrangements; trust me it's a DEFINITE NO-NO when at least two (if not all three, dammit) of your housemates will paddle your ass in a heartbeat if they think you need it. Whatever, I know Cas will handle it, sure Sam could have but even he knew he needed to come with me and let Cas work his mojo. Meantime my job is to keep Paul Bunyan here out of the house 'til I hear from home; Sam...he can't take it when Gabe is crying, it tears him up if he's not the one who caused it; even though he totally trusts Cas he'd still be a wreck, and want to step in which would NOT be cool. Better to keep him out of the house and distracted so _he_ doesn't end up in trouble with Cas.

(Yeah that's a whole 'nother story, it's not mine to tell but I'm sure you'll hear about it...)

Meanwhile I've never seen anyone pick out fruits and vegetables quite this violently; that poor plastic bag doesn't deserve to be abused that way plus it's gonna bust if he keeps throwing tomatoes into it so hard--!

He's gotta get out of his own head; I help him with a big purple grape down the back of his shirt; hey, what are friends for? 

He *yelps* and twitches his shoulders, almost dropping the terrorized tomatoes and trying to dislodge the cold little whatever that just assaulted his back while I get deeply involved with a batch of cucumbers...I'm about to innocently stroll off toward a table full of cakes when a mighty freakin' paw hooks onto the back of my shorts; Sam spins me, he's looking at me the way Gandalf looks at Pippin. I bat my eyelashes and wiggle my eyebrows, watch his lips try not to twitch. He gives zero fucks about being in public but he at least lowers his voice and leans toward me a little:

"That was awfully cold. I should actually thank you since it's so hot out here. And you know what? I bet you and I both have Wednesday off work, we'll have the house to ourselves. Should I thank you then with a little hot and cold, my way?" My heart starts beating WAY faster while I'm shaking my head HELL NO; Sam can do things with a bowl of ice cubes that I'm pretty sure the United Nations has rules against; time to behave--!

Maybe.

It *is* supposed to be awfully hot this week...

Sam can tell I'm thinking about it, that's enough to get a chuckle out of him. Good, he's finally more relaxed. I'm awesome. "C'mon Delinquent, we still need a bunch of stuff." He sneaks a poke to my side as he passes and I jump, making the same friggin' *YELP* that he did from the grape. We should be even. I know him. We're not. I think I'm in trouble. I'm very much okay with that.

Huh? Yeah you're right, it's been awhile and things have, um...happened...since the end of first semester. Sam and Gabe and Cas and me, we kinda got...well, _tighter_. Ok fine, a LOT tighter. The four of us are...

See we...

Aw hell, I dunno! We're just *us*. And we like it this way. It's good for everybody, it really is. I know I've never been this happy, And Sam and Gabe...yeah. I still dunno how to explain them, I just know they can't be without each other and when they tried it was...holy hell THAT story...

Don't yell at me I was BUSY! We all were, there's a lot...

Well stick around to find out then! it's totally worth hearing it _all._

 

**TO BE CONTINUED. A LOT. LIKE, ALL SUMMER A LOT!**

 

 


	2. When the Cas is Away...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe's fucking right. I've been a...friggin' fine, I've been a Good Boy.
> 
> Cas' Good Boy. For months now. The rep I had as the Baddest Badass on this campus shriveled and died the minute I got my ass spanked over that hay bale. 
> 
> Am I...am I a friggin' Wusspussy now? Has making my boyfriend happy turned me into something so lame that *GABE* can make fun of me??
> 
> This cannot stand. Goddammit I need to raise some Hell!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to the first SH chapter was AMAZING, I love you guys! I know I'm telling this story in my own weird winding way, stay with me and I promise all will be made clear before we're done! ♥
> 
> (And seriously new folks, this will make soooo much more sense if you read BUNKER HALL first!)

**SUMMER**

 

"...so d'ya still wanna kill the little nimrod? 'Cause I can drive around the block a few more times..."

Dean's side-eye glance while he's pulling into the driveway is only half-kidding; I can understand his semi-concern, I was in a foul friggin' mood when we left the house earlier. As in "dig out the *&#%$! clown shoe from the back of my closet" foul. 

(Oh yes, I still have it and I probably always will. For reasons.)

I'm...good now. When Dean got the text from Cas saying it was time to come home, we both knew what it meant. Whatever the hell was wrong with Gabe, Cas made it better. Or he made it so _Gabe_ can make it better. I'm proud to say that I'm good at that, I can do that for him, but some days Gabe just needs Cas. We all have days like that, even me. Especially me, I think sometimes...

"I'm fine, Jerk, and I'm starving; just park so we can unload and get dinner started."

"Whatever Bitch, just tryin' to keep you outta prison; there must be laws against Smurf Stomping even if he did steal--" I can see Dean trying to keep a straight face, it's crumbling fast but at least he's trying. Kind of. Brat.

"DON'T say it, don't even say it; I don't want to hear the word "raisin" for like six months." I mean it too, it's stupid but I swear to whoever that I'll get as mad as I was this morning all over again dammit...

"Fine Gargamel," he says, climbing out of his driver's seat and popping the Impala's trunk, "you grab the bags; Imma go see if there's any cookies left; they were just so, so  _special, so bran-tastic--"_

That's it. Now he must die.

I bolt out of the car and start after him, fully enjoying his squawk of panic when he takes off running. Catching his snarky ass on the front steps; before he can get himself loose I've got him in a half-nelson with a handful of those ribs just under his right side, the spot that makes him *SHRIEK* like a middle school girl saw a spider in a Pennywise mask. Dean's an excellent wrestler and almost as strong as I am but tickling makes him weak as hell, heh, and totally ruins his coordination. The only thing better than watching Cas destroy him  (or helping) is doing it myself; one of my favorite new hobbies.

"SAAAHAAHAMMEEEE F-FOR FUCK'S S-SSSAKE--AHHHFINEFINEFINEI'MSORRYYY!!!!!!'" His legs gave out and we're on the grass now, his back to my front while the neighbors get a free show. I almost feel sorry for him and let him up when he gets just free enough to turn a little and BITE my chest--!

Oh no. No no NO. He knows better, he learned the hard way, at least I thought he did. We Don't. Bite. Sam.

Bad things happen if you do. 

I'm about to haul him to his own backseat for a brief, obviously needed session of friendly re-instruction when the front door opens. Cas stands there, grinning a little while he's giving Dean his "Being a pest and paying for it, are we?"" Eyebrow of Doom. Dean scrambles the hell away from me (he knows he'll pay eventually though) and we both get up and head toward the house, grass in our hair and utterly ridiculous looks on our faces.

"Welcome back," Cas is talking to both of us but only Dean's getting the 'Cas Bear Stare'. "Mr. Winchester, why don't you and I bring in the groceries? And then we can have a nice private conversation about just how much I missed you all afternoon." I actually hear Dean's gulp; he's not in trouble, in fact I bet Cas will be extra-sweet to him for getting me out of the house today. But sometimes...

Sometimes the difference between punishment and reward is kinda hazy. It's a wonderful thing.

Cas gives me a wink and my shoulder a squeeze as he goes by me. Telling me with just that little touch that everything's cool. That Gabe's okay. Cas is...he's the best.

I watch them a moment, failing at trying to smother a laugh at the "Yowtch!" from Dean when Cas pinches his rear end on their way to the Impala. Meanwhile...

"Need help with the bags...?" The voice behind me, trying so hard to sound casual and hide the anxiousness we both know I can hear.

Gabe stands in the doorway, watching all of us. Watching _me._ My answer will tell him if I'm still angry or not, if things are all good between us. I'm not and they are, respectively.

But he's still in trouble. 

'We've got it, Gabriel, no worries. You and Sam have matters to discuss." It's funny, I can feel the...the authority, let's face it...in Cas' voice, mixed with something just... _warm_ ; like the world's best blanket; he knows full well I can't stay mad at Gabe. And he knows that Gabe knows. Same with him and Dean. Gabe and Dean are both spoiled rotten and they BOTH know it...

Gabe hasn't moved from the doorway. He's not scared of me, never that. But that doesn't mean he wants to be within reach right now.

Arms folded across my chest with what he or Dean would call my Medium-Bitch Face, I crook a finger at him. After a beat he moves himself towards me, stopping about three feet away on the front steps.

My face doesn't change. I do start slowly drumming my fingers on my other arm. Not a good sign, that much he's learned; in a split second he's right in front of me, on the second-to-last step so he's closer to my eye level. Hands stuffed in his pockets, the ground in front of me must be very interesting. 

"Got somethin' to say to me?" Still not looking up at me, I can barely hear him; the only time Gabe's _ever_ quiet is when he's majorly upset, like this morning, or when he knows he was a total brat and he's mad at himself about it. 

"M'sorry Sam. I didn't mean to be such a di--um, to act like that." Uh-huh. Bet he got a few smacks from Cas for talking smack about himself at some point...lifting his chin with one finger I make definite eye contact; not letting him hide from me. That's not what he needs. I notice his eyes are a little red, a little puffy. Yep...

"What happened after Dean and I went shopping?" 

"Castiel talked to me..." He's fidgety, not totally meeting my eyes. He _hates_ talking about any kind of discipline. Which is why I make him do it, it's good for him.

"He talked to you..." He knows exactly what I'm waiting to hear. And that I won't wait much longer.

"Yeah, I told him my Dad called and I was all pissed off and then I was mad about last night and..."

"...and you took it out on me. We all know. And Cas just talked to you...?" And there goes the blush, the squirming...

"No, he, um, we sat on the swing for awhile and-- y'know--he made me take a nap, and--" His face is the color of Valentine's Day. It's friggin' adorable.

 _"Gabriel."_ His eyes finally come back to mine, his voice lowered and almost huffy. Almost. He's cranky, not crazy.

"He spanked me, ok? Not hard, but it hurt--!" Watching him try to pout respectfully is never not cute as hell. The last tiny bit of anger still holding onto me from this morning evaporates, he looks like freakin' Nibbles the Mouse. I unfold my arms and open them for him, catching him and holding on tight when he basically launches himself into me. I love that he sighs like he's _home._

"Did he say why he spanked you? Tell me." The third-grader voice muffled by my shirt is this mix of frustration with himself and sorry and...poor little dude. I forgave him in my head hours ago and I forgive him all over again now. 

"Because I acted like a maniac; I disrespected the house, I made a big mess and I was rude to you. And...'cause I didn't just _tell_ one'a you guys that I was havin' a hard time after I talked to Dad." He's mad at himself for that, he does know by now that he can come to any of us (including Garth) if he needs to talk about--hell about anything. We all know that about everybody else in our--whatever we are. It's working, we'll label it later.

"I'm glad Cas made you feel better. We're still gonna deal with it ourselves, you know that, right?" I feel him nod into my chest. He expected as much. 

 "After dinner you're going straight to our room. No 'GAME of THRONES' for you tonight; you're gonna spend that time writing, fifty lines. An hour should be enough. When I come in I want your collar and the cuffs on your pillow. You'll be sitting on your naughty stool, waiting for me. We good?" I hold out my fist for our Bump. If I don't get it, that means we have more talking to do. What I say goes, he knows that, but we'll talk about stuff more if his head's still not where it needs to be. 

I can see him struggling not to try for a lesser sentence; we *never* miss GoT, it's a house Sunday Night Thing along with dinner. He knows better though; knows that after a stunt like this morning a single whine or plead could get him a hundred lines instead of just fifty. Or worse, lines somewhere he *really* doesn't want them; Gabe has NO love for the nice sturdy lap cane I bought from FUCKYEAHCANES.org a few months ago. 

( _We love canes!_

_Canes are good!_

_Your brat will behave the way they should!_

Gotta love their slogan) 

He sighs, nodding and not able to hide his pout as he bumps his fist to mine. He knows he earned what he has coming. He even knows he needs it.

Doesn't mean he has to like it. That, I get.

I pull him in for another hug before guiding him by the scruff of the neck into the house. Good thing Cas made him nap for awhile.

He's got a busy night ahead before we're done. 

 

&+&+&

I like this blindfold. Mindfold, that's what it's called. The spongy stuff around the eyes is really soft. 

And it soaks up all the blegh from my stupid crying. I like that too. Even though I know Sam likes it better when I have to wipe my eyes or blow my nose with my hands cuffed in front of me. He says it's "wicked cute". I'd kick the ass of anyone calling me 'cute' except Sam. 

...yeah, and Castiel. I like everything Castiel calls me...Failchester knows he better not unless he wants a beatdown. He still does it, dillhole. He's lucky I love him.

 (OK NO, I can't beat him up; but he lets me think I'm winning for awhile sometimes; he can be a decent dillhole when he wants to be)

 

In the dark like this I can really hear my hearbeat. It's matching the way my ass is throbbing. Castiel's spanking this afternoon fucking _smarted,_  it sucked sitting on the stupid desk chair to write

_**"I Promise To Never Again Bake With Stolen Dried Fruit Because It Is Wrong And UnRaisined Bran Is Not Okay."** _

Fifty times, but he knew I still had Sam's punishment coming so he wasn't too hard on me. I'm gonna bake him something special for that, 'cause the ten I got from 'Zuki were *nasty* on top of what I got from Sam's hand, and that was a LOT. My voice is all scratchy from fuckin' yelling, not proud a' that but Sam is no joke when he's serious.

Tonight he was serious. And I know I had it coming. I still don't know what the fuck got into me, I was just soooo frickin' pissed at Dad and everything just turns stupid and black in my head when I'm that mad and there's nothin' I can do about it. I know, I can talk to people...that's still new, okay?? One day I'll be used to bein' able to...to talk about shit, right now I still forget that's an option. And my ass pays for it. Repeatedly. Geezus. 

I hear the door creak, we still need to oil that one stupid hinge…Sam must be checking on me. He stayed with me, rubbin’ my back

(Sam never ever rubs my ass right after a spankin’, says the burn is part of the lesson. And Satan help me if *I* rub it before he says it’s okay…Castiel does rub, but when he spanks me it’s…it’s a different time. Special. And rubs come with it…)

and making sure I was alright, but he knows I like to be alone for awhile when I’m cuffed and my sight is gone like they are now. I dunno, somethin’ about the dark and my hands bein’ tied makes me feel like I can focus on whatever I need to. I can concentrate, get up inside my head or whatever. It’s good for me. But then I recognize the footsteps and smile, this is even better:

“I know you’re not asleep yet, Gabelin.”

Gabe plus Goblin equals Gabelin. Chesty came up with that all by himself and he was sooo proud…dilhole.

I feel him crawl up on the bed, he shoves me over a little and starts pettin’ my hair. We don’t ever discuss it, but we kinda have this thing where if one of us got in trouble the other will come talk for a little while…it’s nice. Yeah it’s stupid, no we’re not twelve year old girls at a slumber party. It’s just _nice_ goddammit…but I’m supposed to be havin’ Alone Time…

“Aren’t you gonna get in trouble for bein’ in here?” I feel him shift a little. Yeah, he needs to be in his own bed, I had a feelin’…

“Yeah yeah, I should be asleep; the Grownups are out back talking.”

Yeah, we call Castiel and Sam the Grownups; they don’t know that, it started out as a joke but it stuck because…well…yeah.

“I just…I wanted to look at you; seriously dude, I haven't heard you cry like that in a long time. Not since That Night."

"I don't think I've been this much of a dumb--" the hand stops petting my hair; he's waiting to see if I finish that. Even Dean gets mad if I call myself names and he *will* rat me out, doesn’t matter that he's not even supposed to be in here...he'd get himself spanked to get ME spanked for bein’ mean to myself.

That's why I say nobody has friends like mine. Because nobody does.

&+&+&

“— I mean I don’t think I’ve been in this much trouble since then.”

Good, he didn’t call himself that name. We all hate when he gets down on himself like that, yeah everybody talks shit about themselves but Gabe means it and that’s not cool. Cas and Sam are gonna spank (and love, fuck you it’s true) it out of him if it’s the last thing they do. Hell I might help if I have to. Can’t lie, smacking Gabe’s ass *has* crossed my mind when he’s being extra-Gabe. I think…I think a day’s gonna come when it’s just him and me and I don’t feel like waiting for a Grownup to handle his bratty ass. No I’m not plannin’ on it or anything, it’s just he’s _Gabe,_ y’know?

At this point I think you do.

Meanwhile he’s fallen asleep, hands in his hair knock him out faster than me even. Plus he had a *day*. We all did. I should creep my ass back into my own bed before I get caught; instead like a total fool I snuggle down with my own personal doofus; I can’t help it, he’s so fucking warm and…and sweet, yeah I said it. I’m not staying, just resting my eyes for a minute.

And thinking about That Night. The night all of…this whatever-we-are...really started.

The first time Sam spanked me. Nothing’s been the same since. For any of us. 

Which means it was one of the best nights of my life.

 

&+&+&

 

**FEBRUARY **

 

"How long are you gonna be gone?" Perched on my bed, the attempt to keep his voice nonchalant fails miserably; forlorn undertones seeping through. My boy doesn't want me to go. *I* don't want me to go. 

"Just a week, as I've said; my mother needs me to help with the business while my father heals. I'll be back before you can miss me." That was the wrong thing to say, we both know it isn't true. How have we only been...Us...for mere months? I feel as though I've been madly in love with this beautiful boy since the beginning of life itself. 

"And tell me one more time that SAM is in charge??" Dean send a sideways glare at me; still slightly stung that his best friend, a mere freshman, will be standing R.A. while I'm away. Sam really was the best choice on such short notice, normally I wouldn't be allowed to choose someone so young but his grades and reputation are exemplary. 

And he knows **exactly** who 

(whom? ugh)

to keep an eye on in my stead. I'd say he knows far better than most. Better Sam than someone my Mr. Winchester and his dear friend Gabriel and their co-miscreants could ride roughshod over....not that I expect Dean to fall back to his old ways simply because I'm away, but better safe than--whatever mayhem Dean and Gabriel could concoct in my absence...

"Sam will take excellent care of the Bunker while I'm gone and you know it. What you need to think on is how to be my Good Boy and help him until I'm back on Monday." That makes him sit a bit straighter, he's still sulking but in a somehow more mature fashion. Shaking my head at him I nod toward my trench. He hands it over and quietly takes newly-packed duffel, all I'll need for a week back at home. My father had surgery on his shoulder and needs to rest, which he will not do if my mother is left to run their small 'Gas N Sip' shop on her own...my siblings are occupied and further away, it's best if I go and I'm happy to do so. 

But no, I certainly do not want to be away from my Little One. Nor any of my boys...

I watch him place my bag into my trunk, his face turned down, I know he's keeping himself distant to avoid tears. I *have* to get on the road though, this is it. 

"I...I..."he's struggling to say something. I take him into my arms, tears be damned. "What is it, pretty-eyed boy?"

 _"I fear I'll never see you again!_ " The smallest of grins. It takes me a moment, then...ah. Fair enough. 

 _"'Course you will."_ One kiss. And another. 

 _"But what if something happens to you?"_ I take his face in my hands. Sure we're running _Princess Bride_ lines, but I mean every damn word.

 _"Hear this now,_ little WInchester. ** _I will always come for you_**." His eyes sparkle in forest shades. He knows this is real.

 _"But how can you be sure?_ " 

_"This is True Love. Think this happens every day?"_

A single boy tear slides down his cheek, I catch it with my thumb and smooth it away. A kiss, deep and slow and good. And I'm on my way. 

Blinking through the mist in my own eyes, I watch in my rearview mirror as Sam appears in the Bunker's doorway. I smile as one of my boys leads the other back inside. 

They'll be fine, with Sam in charge I can't imagine much can go wrong. 

 

&+&+&

 

 "NO. NO NO NO. NO. You're a special kinda batshit, y'know that?" 

'C'mon Chesty, y'KNOW you wanna; the free world's gonna be there and they're gettin' a beer ball and--"

"I SAID--wait did you say a freakin' _'beer ball'!?_ Did they Quantum Leap back to 1992? Anyway I said 'NO', you idiot. First of all it's entirely too fucking cold to be actin' stupid in the woods at night with a bunch of drunk fratholes; Second--"

"Yeah I know, Big Bad Castiel'll throw a hissy at his little Deany-Weany if he finds out. For fuck's sake Failchester, when did you turn into the world's biggest Wusspussy?" He backs up a little when I *look* at him, he knows that crossed a line. He's still not letting up though. "Seriously dude, the last few months you've been about as much fun as a dead dog! Did Cas exchange your balls for that necklace??" My hand immediately goes to my chain; the little piece with the -C- is ridiculously shiny and smooth because I rub it between my finger and thumb when I'm stressed. Like how this little shitweasel is stressing me the fuck out now. 

He's right, goddammit. I *have* been boring as fuck since I've been with Cas. I don't want anybody else

_No I do *not* want--fuck ALL the way off about the Purg and that dream and--FUCK OFF I SAID_

And I haven't had even a beer in forever...I never think about it but Gabe's fucking right. I've been a...fucking fine, I've been a Good Boy.

Cas' Good Boy. For months now. The rep I had as the Baddest Badass on this campus shriveled and died the minute I got my ass spanked over that hay bale. 

Am I...am I a friggin' Wusspussy now? Has making my

_Daddy_

boyfriend happy turned me into...shit, into something so lame that *GABE* can make fun of me??

This cannot stand. Goddammit I need to raise some Hell!!! 

\--before Cas gets back from his trip. Just, y'know, to avoid a fight; I'd hate to have to put him in his place. FUCK YOU STOP LAUGHING--!

"Fine, asshead; where is this oh-so-amazing Woodland Event?" Gabe's face is so friggin' joyful he's glowing, I totally get why Sam hasn't killed him ye--SAM OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE

"Wait man, what about Sam?? You know he's taking this "Acting R.A." crap fucking _seriously_ , and you know he *will* find out; he's gonna wanna know where we are and--" Gabe puts up a calming hand. At least he thinks that what it is. Nothing Gabe does is ever 'calming'. He's a heart attack that wears shoes. "Already handled; It's Saturday night: He can't leave the front desk 'til late enough that he can't do anything good, I told him you and I were gonna hang around downtown and grab pizza with Alfie and Chuck. They're going to the woods too and they'll totally cover for us if he's weird enough to ask."

Huh. Seems perfect. All bases covered, Cas out of town and Sam occupied. And I'll be seen doing Wrong Things by people who should see me doing Wrong Things. 

Yeah I know. It's TOO perfect. This is the part where a smart human would wash his hands of this entire thing.

As you know, I'm a moron.

This is a terrible idea.

  &+&+&

This was a TERRIBLE idea.

It’s colder than Professor Roman's heart and this beer is skunky as fuck; I hate everything and I just wanna go back to the Bunker and pray Cas never finds out about this bullshit--! Seriously this is so NOT a party, it’s a handful of dipshit freshmen (yes I include myself in that group) huddled around freezing our asses off for basically nothing. Did I mention this was a TERRIBLE idea!?

Gabe is acting like he’s having the time of his fucking life, telling truly *awful* jokes

_“What’s twitchy at the bottom of the ocean? A NERVOUS WRECK!”_

_“FUCK YOU GABE!!!”_

and trying to make sure everyone knows he doesn’t have a care in the world; meaning he doesn’t care if the Acting R.A. finds out what we’re doing. Because Gabe’s got no reason to care what Sam thinks, right? Yeah. I wanna facepalm all the way back to my nice Cas-less- but-still-warm bed. Or maybe Garth’s around, between me being with Cas and Garth having a girlfriend now (whole ‘nother level of wtf but that’s a different story) we barely hang; I miss him…

“HEY WINCHESTER! YOUR TURN FOR A KEG-STAND!” Alfie’s hollering at me from the ‘keg’, this weird-ass little thing they call a beer-ball that I’m pretty sure came from a garage with a lot of Marcy Playground and Third-Eye Blind posters. Seriously this beer has gotta be older than me and will likely kill us way before Cas or Sam.

Of _course_ Imma do a stand! Stop it, you’re not new: I’ve been an idiot since chapter one. Plus everyone’s fucking watching…ugh, I hand Gabe my shitty cup of shitty beer and let Chuck and Alfie turn me upside down over the ball. Somebody puts the tap in my mouth and I start suckin’ down the swill these fools are calling beer; the blood’s rushing to my head my ears and I kinda lose track of everything for a minute; the fools almost drop me (!) but then stronger hands are on my legs; Alfie and Chuck musta switched off with bigger dudes, I’m not exactly tiny…when I can’t take anymore I tap the leg of whoever’s got me and they turn me right-side up; I’m coughing a little and Chuck or whoever’s patting my back while they hold me up by my shoulder; my eyes are bleary and when they clear up—

\--wait where the fuck did everybody go? Where’s Gabe and who’s got me by the shoulder-?? I try to spin around but I can’t, their grip is too freakin’ tight--

And then I hear the beginning of the END OF THE FUCKING WORLD whispered in my ear:

“Well looky here, if it ain’t my Lil’ Gigglebear. Fancy meetin’ you out’chere!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabe's blindfold: http://www.mindfold.com/ I love this thing, it's SO comfy and it really does block out ALL the light while putting no pressure on my extra-sensitive eyeballs; it's amazing for non-kinky naps as well as shenanigans :) Next chapter coming crazy soon! (I mean it this time!)


	3. ...the Brats will play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I flick Gabe's nose. He twitches and whines; Sam pokes my side, making *me* twitch and squeak like an idiot...sigh.
> 
> This is good.
> 
> That's all I 'member before it's all just Cozy Safe Dark and G'night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy True Believers, thank you for your patience; I know this chapter took some time! To be honest I've been having a little trouble with tension headaches (long story, you don't wanna know) and it's really put a wrench in my ability to sit and write. The good news is we seem to have figured out how to stop them, please cross your fingers for me; meanwhile I hope y'all enjoy this chapter and it answers a few of those pesky questions I keep raising!

 

“Just can’t stay outta trouble can you, ‘Lil Man?”

This is it. This is how it all ends. Benny—oh wait I mean OFFICER LAFITTE for fuck's sake--has my right arm snared behind my back and a freakin’ FIRM grip on my shoulder; I know from *experience* that I'm not going anywhere 'til he lets me. How the FUCK did I forget about him bein’ goddamn Campus Police?! I shoulda known he'd turn up out here like a bad penny

 _Penny Benny Bad Benny HA_ ha _Ha_ Ha _HA_ HA _HAAA oh god I'm losin' it--!!!_

and bust us like the dopes we are. Oh fuck he's gonna tell Cas and Cas will let him kill me then kill me himself then give my bones to Sam for his birthday I'm so incredibly _fucked._..

Meanwhile some other Campus Police Dude has Gabe...! Frog-marching him from...wherever the hell he was...back towards us. Everybody else is _gone,_ can’t say I blame ‘em but DAMN, y’know?? 

The other Officer brings a struggling, snarling Gabe to stand right in front of me.  He looks like Baby Face Finster from that old Bugs Bunny cartoon and he's just as gnarly because GABE:

 **“Let us the fuck GO you stupid rental cops, we didn’t even DO anything--!!!”** The little dingus is fighting for all he’s worth; like it’s a 1930’s caper movie and if only he gets free all our troubles will be over…idiot. Meanwhile I honestly don’t know what would be worse: them taking us to the police station or—

“Les’ not call this one in, Henriksen; do me a solid and lemmee handle it m’self.”

\--OR THAT OH FUCK ME--!!!!!

Officer Henriksen must like the immediately friggin' _horrified_ look on my face; he gives a slow, VILE fucking grin, eyes narrowing like a snake with a fat mouse. “Call in what? They all got away, gosh-darn it all.” I feel Benny's chuckle thrum through his

_solid brick wall geezus CHRIST WINCHESTER NOT NOW_

chest, he's enjoying this WAY too much goddammit...! Gabe actually shuts up long enough to process what he just heard and freaks accordingly. "What the HELL do you mean "handle it yourself?? Keep your dirty fuckin' hands OFF us you piece o---!!!"

"GABE SHUT THE FUCK UP I KNOW THIS GUY." 

(I totally do _not_ shiver 'cause Benny growls

 _"yeah you do_ "

so low and close to my ear that only I hear it; it's just cold out here. FUCK YOU it *is* cold!)

Gabe shuts his mouth so hard we can all hear it, looking at me like I have demon eyes or something.  Before he can say somethin' stupid and/or snarky Benny shoves me over to him and Henriksen. "You two stand RIGHT there while I have a lil convo with my fellow Officer; if you know was' good for ya you'll do as I say." Benny and Henriksen move to a few yards away from us to talk, Benny looks to be explaining who I am and why he can ruin my life just fine without Henriksen's help. Once again: FUCK ME. 

Meanwhile Gabe looks ready to bolt and that's the *last* thing we need, I get right in his face and commence with some 'splaining of my own: 

 "Listen Stupid--"

"Hey!"

"--the big one that sounds like Gambit is a friend of Castiel's; we have...history. He likes me and he LOVES Cas, stop bein' such a flaming assmouth and maybe he won't take us to jail tonight!" I don't tell him what'll probably happen instead if I know Benny; we'll cross that lap when we get to it. Meanwhile anyone else would be grateful as FUCK to hear what I said and just let me handle it.

This is, of course, Gabriel. The Grand High Llama of Dumbassery. 

"Oh SCREW that guy Failchester, who the FUCK is he but a mall cop with a bigger badge?!?? I say we make a run for it right now, they won't catch us and they can't prove a goddamn thing anyway and--"

\--and that's when I'm DONE with this little Bullshit Napoleon; I love Gabe but his pain-in-the-assness just unleashed a demon in me....

Suddenly I get a HEINOUS idea.

"Y'know what? You're right Gabe; in fact don't even run from him; just go right up to him and tell him to fuck ALL the way off! He's not even a real cop like you said, if you tell him what's what he'll probably apologize and everything!"

Gabe looks at me, still pissed but also skeptical as hell; he does have *some* sense...kinda...

"...they're really not real cops? I was just givin' 'em shit, I thought--"

This is the Crossroads moment where I can be a good person or a truly rotten individual. Which way would you go? Yup, me too.  

"Nah man, just rental cops like you said." I'm going to Hell with barbecue-flavored underwear for this and I do not care. "Tell that douche where he can stick his plastic badge and show him you're not scared!"

Just when Gabe's totally fired up and actually _bouncing_ he's so amped, Benny waves Henriksen off; watches him grab the beer ball (I officially HATE that thing) and head off, and ambles back over to us. "Good job Genle'men, y'all didn' wanna make me come after you. Now I know Dean here's a good kid an'--

"--AW FUCK OFF PAUL BLART before we kick your ass all the way back to the mall!" Gabe goes right up to Benny and STARTS POKING HIM IN THE CHEST OH GOD--I wanted him to mess with Benny but this is--

This is the best thing that I have ever seen. Yes i know that makes me an asshole.

Benny blinks, his eyebrows shoot as high as possible before going as LOW as possible. The tiniest of smirks tweak his lips before HOLY SHIT Gabe's in fucking HANDCUFFS THIS IS EPIC--!!!!

Benny literally SPUN Gabe like a top and slapped REAL HANDCUFFS on him in like twelve seconds--!!! He's holding him with Gabe's back to his front, a hand on the cuffs right above Gabe's rear-end to keep him in place; Gabe's yelling words I've never even heard before but they sound *filthy*, he's back to struggling like he's possessed and it's even more useless than when Henriksen had him. I know what'd happen if it was me, is Benny gonna...yup he IS...I can't help cringing for Gabe when Benny just shakes his head and with his free hand lays a mighty 

_**SMACK** _

right on Gabe's left thigh. Gabe SHRIEKS but stops his tantrum, too shocked to keep up the nonsense.

"You-you can't DO that!!!" Benny just grins, in his NASTY way that I freely admit makes my belly clench, and 

 _**SMACK** _ **S** **MACK** _**SMACK** _

right on Gabe's other thigh, HARD. I *know* it freakin' HURT, Gabe _SHRIEKS_ a bunch of insane swear wordsagain and does a broken little jig in place, tears starting in his eyes; Benny pulls him closer and speaks right up against his cheek:

"Now listen here, Small Bits; you wanna be very, very careful right now. Dunno what'chu think y'know but it's _wrong._ I can still run yo' lil' ass in, keep you in lock-up 'til your parents come for you and I can make that a VERREH long time if i like. Now you wanna 'pologize and b'have, or you wan' me to spank yo' ass AND yo' legs and THEN take you downtown? Choice is yours and the clock's tickin'." 

I gotta give props. Bad Penny Benny is not to be fucked with; sure I knew it before but I DEFINITELY know it now. And so does Gabe. I almost feel sorry for the little Doofus. Almost. Gabe takes a deep breath and kinda slumps a little in Benny's grip; still mad as hell, but...resigned. 

"Fuckin' FINE, I'm sorry okay?!?"

I actually feel myself pouting a little; I know Benny'd make ME say it nicer. he doesn't know Gabe as well though, at least not yet...he gives the little nutbag a break. 

"Good job. Now you tell me you ain't nevah gonna pull some BS like this agin and we'll call it even." My head whips up at him, Benny's reasonably cool but no way he's just lettin' this slide...

"You're--you're not gonna tell Cas?" Benny gives me a slow, *wrong* grin. Oh.

OH. DAMMIT...

"--you're gonna make *ME* tell him! Aw Benny--!!!" I see Gabe's ears perk up at the name "Benny" but he's not dumb enough to say anything right now.

"Aw yo'self, Lil Man. All I'm sayin' is next time I see Castiel who knows what we'll talk about. It'd be a cryin' shame if he heard 'bout this from me 'fore you. Last I knew, he don't like secrets." Fuck fuck FUCK. Benny's not even being mean, he's right, if Cas hears about this and I didn't 'fess up first he will cook me and eat me for his supper. Still...goddammit...Benny just chuckles in that deep way of his (YES it's hot, fuck you) and fishes in his pocket for something--the handcuff keys I'd think--as he starts herding us both toward where I guess his police car or whatever is parked so he can take us back to the Bunker. It's been a long stupid night and Cas is gonna murder me when he gets back, but at least I have time before I see him.

That's when I hear it.

I realize I’m hearing the angry crunch of snow, getting closer and closer; don’t even ask me how snow can sound angry but I swear…we all look and Sam…make that UPPERCASE SAM…is headed right for us. Or, to be more accurate, he’s headed for _Gabe._ With totally NON-resting bitch face and laser-like concentration that’d make the freakin’ Terminator tell him to chill the fuck out 'cause it can’t be that serious…!!!

How the hell did he even know where we were??

And Oh. Oh NO.

In SAM’s right hand there is a shoe. A big huge red and yellow shoe. You know exactly what shoe it is. Oh my fucking god. 

The puffball on top jingles with SAM’s every step. It may be the most terrifying sound I have ever heard. And if you think it’s freakin’ *ME* out, Gabe’s in the middle of around five heart attacks; he’s whiter than the damn snow and all he can do is shake his head and mumble  “not again not again NOT AGAIN SAM NOOOO SERIOUSLY--!!!!!” before turnin’ tail and—

\--and before he can flee like a Lilliputian running from Gulliver Sam’s got him. Just throws him right the fuck over his shoulder, STILL WEARING THE HANDCUFFS, and continues his mighty tromp into the woods _with Gabe still talkin’ shit the entire way--!_

**_“YOU SONUVABITCH WANNABE MALL COP I HOPE YOU GET HIT BY A DONUT WAGON FUCK YOU I’LL TEACH YOUR GRANDMA TO SUCK EGGS GODAMMIIIIITTT!!!!!!!”_ **

And the woods swallow them up, Sam goes deep; all we can hear...eventually...is the faintest of Gabe’s ranting. And then…wailing. And jingling. No begging yet but Gabe’s a stubborn little shmoe…

_(“Again”, he said; I *KNEW* Sammy must have used that damn shoe on Gabe’s ass back in the Fall I KNEW IT…)_

Meanwhile Benny and I just...stand there. We saw it but believing....damn.

At least *I* have a clue. Benny’s, um…'bemused' might be the right word…he’s gotta ask:

“I'm guessin' that's _*_ his*Daddy...?" Huh. I never thought about it that way but--

"Basically. And he's the R.A. while Cas is gone."

"Then that's Sam! Cas tol' me a young'n by that name was in charge o' you Bunker kids this week; never got around to comin' up to meet him. Guess I'll shake hands in a few. Speakin' a hands, in his: wazzat a--?”

“Yep.” 

“and he's gonna use it for--?”

“Oh yeah. Won’t be the first time either.”

Benny’s dead quiet for a second, processing. Then he huffs out a low bark of a laugh. “I like your friends, ‘Lil Man. Entertainin’ t’say the least.”

He’s not wrong. I’m about to agree when the world gets DIZZY and up is down and oh no oh geezus “BENNY PLEASE C’MON--!!!"

‘C’mon whut?” He rumbles, his arm wrapped tight around my middle; my boots are barely on the ground, holy shit I forgot just how _strong_ Benny is…”D’ya really think I could find you drankin’ out’chere and just let it go? Yo’ Daddy’d never forgive me.” And with that he starts in on my ass with his hard HARD hand O fuck me even through jeans this SUCKS--!!!

I lose count of how many swats, his brick-paw smacks over and over and over and OVER while he’s scolding me about this whole thing: “You think you slick, waitin’ ‘til yo’ Daddy’s outta town to get up to foolishness like this…you KNOW bettern’ this…out here drankin’ and carryin’ on just WAITIN’ t’get caught IF nuthin’ went wrong and one-a y’all got hurt or somethin’…you betta thank ev'ry god you know ‘bout that it was me, or your lil’ sorry self coulda been locked up nice ‘n tight in Holding ‘til somebody came for ya; you don’t even wanna THINK ‘bout what’d happen to this lil' rear once Castiel got hold of you then…” Benny just keeps spanking and spanking, my ass has GOT to be about to fall off and sizzle while it melts the snow; just when I think he won’t stop ‘til spring he slows down to just pats, then he’s rubbing my back and saying it’s over. I stayed as quiet as I could the whole time he was spanking me but my face is wet and my nose is running dammit. Because every single swat from Benny hurts like HELL…and because everything he said is true. Sure this was something college kids just ‘do’…but it was dumb and lame and not especially safe; Cas would/will be disappointed in me. That thought makes my heart hurt worse than my ass. And that’s sayin’ something because I may actually sit in the snow before the night’s over; fucking OWTCH.

Benny pulls me up into a bear-hug; I let him, what the hell; he feels good. Safe, even after he wails on my ass he feels safe. He pushes me away a little, just enough to see me eye to eye. “This was serious, ‘Lil Man. Henriksen’s like a brother, any other partner and I’d’ve had no choice but to take you in and you’d be in a world of hurt I couldn’t do nothin’ about. This will NOT happen again, you hear me?!?”  I’m nodding, fresh tears in my eyes. Showing a bunch of drunk freshman morons that I’m still a badass seems incredibly dumb right now. Maybe because I *know* Cas is gonna destroy me and Sam’ll be pissed for days since this happened on his watch…ugh I never should have left the Bunker tonight and if I EVER listen to Gabe again please push me off something high. Onto something pointy.

Benny draws me close again, I let him take my weight; he's more than strong enough and I'm freakin' tired...a shudder travels through me when he takes a fistful of my hair and whispers with the warmest lips against the chill of my neck:

"You *will* stay outta trouble, Lil' Gigglebear. Next time you step outta line on my watch you gonna _wish_ I just took you to jail 'steada what _does_ happen. Castiel would approve an' you know it. You'd do well t'believe what I say." He reaches a FREEZING FUCKING COLD hand under my jacket to grip my side, I can't help the ticklish fucking twitch and humiliating little scream that escapes dammit; Then Benny's got my neck between his teeth and there's j u s t enough warm sharp silky pressure...there won't be a mark on my skin. 

Just in my head. He kinda does that to me. I'd have dignity if anyone would let me...

Meanwhile over Benny's shoulder I see Sam and Gabe are coming out of the woods, I see the red of the tip of the clown shoe, it's tucked into Gabe's coat. Gabe’s leaning into Sam, who’s got a big arm around him; to steady him in the snow (Gabe’s still wearing the cuffs--!) but obviously out of love/friendship/whatever-the-hell’s between them too. Gabe’s face looks about the way I bet mine does but his eyes are… _whoa_. That's not just from getting his ass whooped. Whatever lecture Sam gave him, it broke him to bits. I’d honestly be concerned but it's SAM. Whatever all happened out there, Gabe’s better for it.

Benny lets me go with a *look* _(sigh),_ as Sam and Gabe reach us. Benny holds up the handcuff key and looks all questioning at Sam, not Gabe. This annoys Gabe on a level that's just amazing. Sam nods and turns Gabe over to Benny, who uncuffs him before spinning him again to grab his chin and give him the most serious look I've ever seen on Benny's face so far.

"Behave, Small Bits. Next time I won't be so nice; maybe one day Dean'll tell ya a little story..."

"THAT'S ENOUGH O' THAT Sam can we go please??" I look over to Sam while Gabe's having his hair ruffled by Benny. That's when I realize Sam's giving me a 'Sam Stare' that I usually only see aimed at Gabe; it makes me wanna hide for a minute before I remember it's just 'Sam'; Yeah it's SAM, I know, and I probably should never really cross him, but it's Cas I have to actually worry about. I'm safe for now.

_yeah keep tellin' yourself that WInchester you might wanna lock your door tonight or else plan to sleep on your belly when Sam's done_

 I shake away those thoughts. Sam's my friend, not my...not Cas. He's NOT, shut up...

Benny gives us a ride back to the Bunker; it's not far but it's still nice to be out of the cold...Sam rides in front and we "Bad Boys" get to ride in the back of the squad car. we can't hear everything but we hear enough; apparently when Benny and Henriksen showed up everybody scattered, Alfie and Chuck went back to the Bunker and ran right into Sam. And one look from Sam had Alfie spilling his freakin' guts about...shit, about everything. Remind me to smack him around tomorrow....

Gabe glares at me, hissing:

" _You knew they were real cops_." Oh yeah. Heh.

"Yep."

"You set me up."

"Yep."

"You're...despicable." He actually does his Daffy voice, it's perfect.

I can't help grinning. Gabe mutters "fuckhead" under his breath, leans his head on my shoulder. Something occurs to me--

"Gabe...how'd Henriksen catch you? As fast as you are when you wanna be--" He sighs.

"...I couldn't leave you, upside down with that Gorilla; I stayed to make sure you were okay and that asshole busted me." Oh for--he coulda gotten off scott-free but--!!!"

"Jesus Gabe, you didn't have to--" He bops my shoulder with his forehead.

"Yeah I did. You wouldn' a been out here if I didn't tease you so hard. we're even, Chesty. It's all good."

I have to put an arm around him. When you get down to it, the little assmonkey's one of the best friends I've ever had.

 

 

After Benny drops us off, Sam walks us all the way to his and Gabe's room. Tells Gabe to get into his pajamas and get to bed. NOW. Gabe fucking listens, too wiped (and too well-spanked, you know it) to care that I'm standing right there. Sam then walks with me down...past mine and Garth's room...?....to Cas' door. I forgot he has a key for the week, I have one too ('cause I'm special, heh) but I'd planned on staying in my own room tonight...

"Uh, Sammy? I'm not staying here tonight--"

"We can talk about that later, Right now we need to deal with a few things."

With that he pretty much shoves me into Cas' room and locks the door--!!!

"Sam what the hell?? I'm wiped man, go to bed or whatever and we can talk tomorrow..." Sam just pins me with a glare, leaning against the door with his arms and ankles crossed. I start taking off my jacket and boots while he watches me, it's kinda, well, ominous...but I refuse to act like it--!

"Lemmee ask you, Dean. Was it really too hard to not act like a jerk for the week I'm in charge? Did you and Gabe HAVE to go get in trouble THIS week?!"

...Oh. Okay yeah, he's mad, I knew this was coming...I wave a hand at him while I slip into the pajama pants and t-shirt I left in here awhile ago; if I'm gonna get reamed out I may as well be comfortable.

"Sorry Sammy, okay? We were assholes I know, Cas is gonna kill me when he gets back so don't worry about it..." Sam's still watching me, his eyes all narrow. Next thing I know he's taking off his own coat like he's gonna stay for awhile. I don't like this at ALL.

"Sam seriously I'm going to bed--"

"Yeah. You are. After I spank you." SAY FUCKING WHAT--Uh-uh NOPE NOT HAPPENING

_of course its happening you knew it you knew it before you left the Bunker tonight you knew_

"Are you--who the fuck d'you think you are?? Fuck off Sammy, go beat Gabe's ass if you need somethin' to do--!!" Sam's just slowly pushing up the sleeves of his flannel shirt. Friggin' uh-oh.

"Already did. Now it's your turn."

 

 

&+&+&

"Sam I mean it, back the fuck off or I'll--"

"You'll what? Fight me? You'll lose. You know it. Because you don't really wanna win." That messes with Dean's head, he stops his rant and his face is totally six years old for a second. He blinks a few times before going back to offense-as-defense.

" _I'm not yours, dammit!!!_ Cas will--"

He can't even finish that thought; he knows better.

"So call him. Call Cas right now and tell him what's going on here. See what he says. I'll wait." He just stands, his eyes starting to fill; not out fear or even anger; out of frustration. He knows I'm right but he can't just allow this. I understand. This is still going to happen.

 "You won't call because you know what he'll say. You _know_ you've got this coming. Let's get it over with."

Dean's hands are balled into fists, he's damn near trembling; struggling with himself, with this whole night. This is too much for him to decide.

I decide for him.

As furious as he is, he barely resists when I pull him over to stand between my knees. He knows that whatever the hell's been brewing between us, at this point I'm well within my rights. And he knows...that this has been coming for a long time. Things will be different now, but that's not even almost a bad thing. It'll probably be the best thing that could have happened.

I don't draw it out, I think if I take too long he'll shatter into a million pieces; sliding his pajama pants down I leave his underwear up (this time) and bend him over my right knee; get down to business with a steady rhythm of swats from the center of his rear down to just above the backs of his knees. I'm not going hard, not yet anyway, but every smack to the backs of his legs makes him jump and a little sob slips out; it seems to be harder for him to take. Hmm, I'll have to ask Cas about that...

When I can see a nice even pink in the whole of the area I've been spanking, I figure it's time for some conversation. One hand still holding him in place, I rest my other hand on the back of one toasty thigh; he gasps a little but I know he's alright; and he can listen: 

 “You and I are buds, now and forever. I’m not Cas an’ I’m not tryin’ to be. I don’t NEED to be Cas. I’m tellin’ you now just like I told Gabriel not that long ago, and you BETTER hear it: when you act like a total fool we are NOT just ‘friends.”

**SWACK SMAP SMACK WHAP SMACK**

**“ _AHHHSAMFUCKAHHHHH”_**

“Do somethin' stupid--”

**SMACK**

**“ _OWTCHSHIT!!!”_**

“Try to lie to me like I’m an idiot--”

**SWAP**

**“ _MOTHUFU-OW!!!”_**

“Let GABE talk you into doin’ somethin' stupid or lyin’ to me like I’m an idiot--”

**SMACK SWACK SMACK**

**_“OWSHITSAMMY!!!!!!”_ **

“--and this is where we’ll end up. With *your* end up. I mean it dude, act a fool and watch what happens.”

**SMACK SMACK SMACK**

**“G _AHHOWOWOWSAMMYPLEA--!!!!””_**

“And one more thing. You do **_not_**   ask me ‘who the fuck I think I am.’ You KNOW who I am and if you didn’t know before you damn well know now: I’m your best

**_SMACK “OWITCH!!”_ **

friend

**_SMACK “OWOWFUCK!!!”_ **

**_Sam_**. That can mean staying up all night cramming for Psych 109, or it can mean standing you in that corner over there for bein’ a humongous brat. It means whatever it _needs_ to mean. And you’re not gonna give me grief about it ever again. Try it and I’ll explain all

**WHAP**

Over

**WHAP**

Again.”

**WHACK WHAP WHAP WHAP**

**WHAP**

_**"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"** _

"We good?”

 **_“WE’RE GOOD GREAT FINE--!!!!”_** He dissolves over my knee, not fighting anymore. Not defeated, just... _done._

 "Good. Now c’mere.” I pull him up by the back of his shirt and basically use my version of the Force to get him into a hug; he acts like he doesn’t want to. For around ten seconds. Gotta try to be all Manly and save _some_ face, I get it. Still all it takes is rocking a little, and finding the right spot on his back and just rubbing in slow, warm circles. You know that spot dead center where you can never _really_ scratch? Right there.

(I saw Cas use the heel of his hand right in that spot back when Dean was getting over being so sick, we were all in here to watch Super Troopers and Dean missed some because that spot made him pass right the hell out for awhile. It was…sweet. Yeah I pay attention to stuff like that, it’s just who I am; if you have a problem with it kindly screw off).

“I can still kick your ass y’know.” Mumbled into my shoulder and barely understandable. I can't help my smile.

“I know.” I squeeze him. He lets me. And squeezes back.

“This don’ make me some lil’ bish you’cn just push aroun’…” He smushes his cheek around on my shoulder while he’s saying this. It’s awesome. And he’s about twelve seconds from falling asleep, it’s so fucking adorable…no wonder Cas fell so hard so fast...

Meanwhile I’ll never get a better chance to just put stuff on the table:

I reach under the pillow and before he knows what’s up he’s got his Binky. He uses it for a good twenty seconds before I feel him *freeze*. Still half-asleep he jerks back in my arms and stares at me, his eyes like giant green marbles. Yeah I know, this is probably totally embarrassing for him and shocking and whatever; at this point I kinda don’t care and I don’t have time for a dramatic ‘thing’; I’ve got a whole other brat to go check on, I’m putting this one to bed. Dean’s struggling to get off my lap; I lift him a little and a good SWAT to his rear squashes that baloney.

“Chill dude, I _know._ And NO, Cas didn’t tell me; I just…I know, ok? It’s fine, you don’t need to spazz. We can talk about it tomorrow if you want but I’m good if you are. We good?” He’s still staring at me, WITH the binky in place. I don’t need to see pics, now I know exactly what he must have looked like when he was three…and it was/is beautiful. I can totally hear the hamster running on the wheel in his tired head; this is _crazy,_ but not worth making a fuss about, not now anyway… he nods, a small, shy, beyond sleepy nod. Enough. It’s bedtime.

Tilting him a little so I can stand, I get him up and pull back the blanket; he hesitates just for a second (I know part of him is still thinking this _cannot_ be happening) before giving it up and just climbing into the bed. I draw the blanket up over him and think about giving him his bear, I know where it probably is…nah, not this time. It’s enough for his brain that I know this much.

I’m about to kinda wrap around him, rub his back more...when a thought creeps in.

As tight as we all are….but maybe not…nah, it’s gonna happen sooner or later, no time like the present. Worse that happens is everybody hates me, right?

“Dean, do you trust me?” He turns over and blinks at me. Gives me a sleepy/annoyed look that says “after everything you’re asking me NOW? Geezus dude..” and that’s all I need.

“Good. I’ll be right back.”

I leave the bedside lamp on the lowest setting, the room is glowy and still and just right. I head back down to my room.

If I’m wrong...but I just don’t think I am….

Gabe’s in his bunk; I can tell he’s not asleep yet. Good.

“Gabe?” He jerks a little at my voice and kinda curls in on himself. I doubt he was doing the ‘first’ thing that came to my mind so instead of backing out to give him privacy I tell him to sit up. He doesn’t move.

“ _Now_ Gabriel.” After everything that’s gone on tonight it doesn’t take much bass in my voice to get him to do as I say;

Reluctant and slow, with his upper cheeks burning even hotter than the two he’s sitting on…Gabe sits up in his bunk.

His wrists are bound. With the tie to my robe. Gabriel tied his own wrists together.

Sitting there with his legs dangling down from the top bunk, too shy to look at me. With his little hands tied in his lap. Currently there is nothing cuter or hotter in existence.

I close in, put a hand on either side of him. His face is so red I’m actually scared it might burst into flames.

“Look at me, Gabriel.” When he shakes his head ‘no’ I tweak his left kneecap; he twitches and a (cute as HELL) “N-AAHH don’t!” leaks out, his eyes finally meeting mine.

“You liked it when the cuffs were on you, didn’t you.” It’s not really a question; he doesn’t really answer, just tries to lower his head. I give his other knee the same treatment, get a squealy “Sam seriously!” out of him while he tries and fails to move his legs away from my reach; he’s trapped though, my arms on either side. Nowhere to go. I like that.

And so does he.

“Then keep your head up and listen. We’re gonna stay with Dean in Cas’ room tonight. You’re gonna keep your hands just like they are now. I’ll set you loose in the morning.” He opens his mouth to argue and I lean in even closer. “Maybe. IF you’re good.”

Gabe’s eyes widen, not much different from Dean’s before. He swallows….and shakes his head ‘yes’. I can make a Quiet Gabe. That will never stop feeling amazing.

 I go to help him down, a hand under each arm. But instead of his feet hitting the floor, my leg is on the bottom bunk so he ends up straddling. I leave him there. I like it.

And when I kiss him, it's the first time but it’s not new. Not Earth-shaking. Instead it’s like the thousandth time. That’s how natural and perfect it feels. Like we’ve been…this…since the beginning of the world.

Like we’ll be *this* ‘til the end of everything. Maybe after that.

Still he’s shuddering, shivering. My new mission in life is to make him shiver like that as many times as humanly possible. In a lot of different ways.

But not tonight. Tonight we’re going down to Cas’ room, where I’m going to tuck him in next to Dean. Bratcare is more important than…other stuff…right now.

I grab pajama bottoms. We put my robe over Gabe’s wrists, no one’s really in the hall this time on a Saturday night but you never know…make our way down to Cas’ room. I stop Gabe before we go in; back him right up against the door, not rough but definitely all business:

“Dean’s gonna look a little…different. I’m trusting you to be a good guy and NOT give him any grief. If you do I will take you right back down to our room. When we get there I will tie you down and use ‘Zilla ‘til the sun comes up and your voice is a thing of the past from screaming into your gag. We clear?” He has to gulp twice before he can answer me:

“Crystal; no problem.” 

I kiss him again. I can’t help it, he looks so friggin’ _cute_ when he’s too messed up by what I just put in his head to be his usual ornery self. I like that I can do that to him. I plan to do it a lot more.

While he’s still dizzy from the kiss (and I’m almost as bad) I open the door.

Dean’s fallen fast asleep. His binky is going and going. ‘Precious’ doesn’t cover it.

Gabe totally, with no doubt, agrees. Any worry I had about him reacting badly to this side of Dean vanishes when I hear him inhale and actually put his (tied) hands over his mouth like Stefan from Saturday Night Live.

 _“OhmyfuckingodhesgotaNUK!!!”_ Gabe scream-whispers (with Gabe that’s a thing that happens), his hands muffling the sound. “He turns on me, he’s honestly irritated--!

“WHY the fuck would you think I’d give him crap?! What kinda dick do you think I am??”

“How many choices do I get?”

Gabe instinctively goes to punch me; quickly remembers A) his hands are bound and B) this probably isn’t the best time to give me more reason to turn him back over my knee. He settles for a dirty look…that I file away for later…and tiptoes (no seriously he _tiptoes,_ it’s awesome) over to the bed. Stands there just gazing at Dean before I hear him mumble “this is the best fucking thing ever!” and climbs in. Turns on his side just watching Dean sleep.

 We just barely had our first kiss but Dean’s so damn cute that I am now chopped liver. Alrighty then. Forget it Sam, it’s Brat Town.

 

 &+&+&

I wake up all kinds of disoriented...my ass is burning and I remember: Benny then SAM. And Sam's in bed with me, I'm actually all snuggled up to him--? I hear somebody in the bathroom and figure Sam and Gabe must've stayed in here. Not a bad thing...cool in fact, I didn't really wanna be by myself and Garth was gonna be with his woman. I shuffle out of bed and head to the fridge because I'm thirsty as hell.

I sip a little juice; just as I put my Sassi back in, Gabe comes out of the bathroom; notices me over by the sink, nods my way; eyes only half open. I put my head down, hoping he didn't notice...good he's heading back to bed. I turn to put the juice glass away...turn back toward the bed and Gabe's right in front of me--!! He scares the CRAP outta me; while I'm having a friggin' spasm he lifts his tied hands (!)

and pops out my Sassifier (!!)

and starts using it himself (!!!)

I'm standing there freakin' stunned while he kinda swishes it around like he's testing it or whatever...he nods at me again and starts shuffling back to bed. Oh HELL no--!!!

"Gimme that thing back man, I..." He goes to wave a _whatever dude_ hand at me and realizes his hands are still tied; it's one of the most WTF things I have ever seen. Meanwhile I follow, I'm wiped and he still has my Sassi--!

"Gabe seriously--"

"Mine." He mumbles around it, getting back under the blankets. NUH-UH, not havin' it--!!! 

_"Gabe--"_

_"Mine."_

**"GABE!** " 

 **"MINE!** " he friggin' bellows at me (only friggin' GABE can bellow around a soother that loud) over his shoulder and snuggles back down into his side of Sam's chest. Dunno how he can get comfortable with Sam awake and vibrating, he's laughing so hard...he reaches over Gabe to Cas' nightstand drawer and searches; pulls out one of my other Sassifiers. "be nice and let him have that one for tonight; come use this one, 'kay?" Sam's too nice and I'm too sleepy to throw the SERIOUS FIT I want to, darn it. Fine, I make my way to the other side of the bed and climb in; let him pop in my other Sass (Batman, I know 'cause my tongue knows all my chew-marks) and sink down into MY side of Sam. It's warm and it's dark and...and...

...and I like this. Lots and lots.

I reach over and flick Gabe's nose. Already mostly asleep again, he twitches and whines; Sam pokes my side, making *me* twitch and squeak like an idiot...sigh.

This is good. 

This is _weird._

This is right. 

That's all I 'member before it's just Cozy Safe Dark and G'night...

 

 &+&+&

 

It's entirely too early, I drove most of the night and I cannot wait to get into my bed. There's probably a sleeping little Winchester, warm and wonderful, awaiting me there. I've missed him horribly, and knowing him as I do I'm sure Sam will have at least some misdeeds to report; my brat couldn't possibly have behaved himself the entire time I was away, simply because I was away. Call me terrible, but a little something for which to pop those Winchester bubbles later on wouldn't be much of a hardship...unlocking my door as quietly as I can, I enter the darkened room and place my bag by the closet; I'm about to slip off my trench when the bed catches my eye. Or rather, the size of the lump in the bed. My boy has either grown several heads or he's not alone.

Approaching silently, my eyes acclimatizing to the dim, the sight that greets me is beyond precious. And, I must say, not altogether unexpected.

Sam is fast asleep. With my boy snuggled to him on one side and Gabriel on the other. Gabriel appears to have his wrists bound. Huh. With one of my Dean's Sassifiers. Now that *does* surprise me. Not that Gabriel has it, but that my little one would share... If only I could get a picture that wouldn't need the flash--!

"Cas?" Sam is waking, blinking at me in the grey of the early hour. He starts to sit up, then realizes he's well and truly trapped. In the most delightful of ways. He looks at me, his smile slow and simply lovely. Rarely have I seen anyone so content. He glows. 

"Yes it's me, you go on back to sleep; I'm going to open my sofa bed and steal that leaf-eyed brat from you, if you wouldn't mind. And later....I think perhaps you and I will go for coffee. I suspect you have a few thoughts we should share." 

Sam just grins sleepily, nodding at the level of understatement.

 

This will be an interesting day indeed.

 

**Epilogue: SUMMER**

“You did very well today. I was proud of my cub.”

I hear the sigh of relief, feel Sam’s tension begin flowing away, some at least. We're outdoors, I'm sitting on the porch swing with our young lion resting beside me. My instincts were correct; once both brats were in bed I brought myself out to the back yard, relatively sure that Sam would need some time to talk. It was quite the day, for all of us, and even when a discipline session is very much needed and deserved it can give such ache to a young Dominant’s heart...

“I lost it with him, Cas. You had to get into it and send me out with Dean because I was so angry I could barely see straight--!” His breathing is quickened, heavied; his guilt causing him such anxiety…this won’t do. A handful of his thick lion's mane lifts his head so that I may look right into those kaleidoscope eyes:

“You have nothing to feel badly about, Samuel. Losing your temper simply makes you human, and Heaven knows our Gabriel can try the patience of a saint. Tell me, do you honestly feel that you might have harmed him?” Sam shakes his head swiftly.

“No Sir, I’d never hurt him; I know I wouldn’t and he knows it too...I just feel like I should have had more control instead of getting so mad, I’m always on him for *his* temper and there I go Hulkin’ out on him when I _knew_ he was upset! He already has his asshole dad, he doesn’t need me on top of that--!” he runs a hand through his own hair, his angst palpable. Gently, firmly, I pull him closer into my space; instinctively he lowers his head onto my knee, where I can card though and rub his scalp; I’ve discovered this measure of quiet care turns him into something more...languid. Malleable. Allowing him to soothe and settle, and truly hear me.

“Sam, anger is not a terrible thing to express when it’s appropriate. I’d say a shirt covered in cereal fits the bill.” He chuffs a rueful laugh through what I can only call purring. It’s delightful indeed.

“Rather than shouting at Gabriel, or something else that would have made matters worse, you had the presence of mind to let a cooler head take over. You allowed yourself to be removed from the situation, and when you did return you calmly and caringly gave him precisely what he needed. Yes?” He nods, head still on my lap.

"Then you did a fine job; I’ll repeat it as often as you need.” I feel him grin, a

_paw_

hand rubbing up and down my leg. “S'okay. I hear you. Thank you, Cas.” I stroke his back, enjoying the way the moonlight plays along the fairy wisps of hair by his cheek. Yet another one with no idea how beautiful he really is.

I know that, in the back of his mind, Sam wondered if this was a time when I might take him to task for his display of anger. Certainly not, he was far from out of line today and handled himself quite well in my opinion. Still, my mind goes back to the evening, not long ago, when he did find himself over my knee. Not for losing his temper...

But for thinking he’d lose my trust.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, more coming as soon as I can get it to you; comments sooo welcome ♥


	4. There's Got To Be a Morning After....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can huff and puff as much as you need to about what a little badass you are and how you don’t have to listen to anyone, and I’ll pay about as much attention as I always do.” I blush at his freakin' *evil* grin, I can’t help it…
> 
> “--but as long as this stays tied, well, that’ll tell me what I need to know. Tell us both what you really want from me. So brat and holler all you please. Pull all the pranks you want. Just know that I’ll take care of it. Across my knee, or tied any way I see fit. Fit to be tied, all night if that’s what you need..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this took entirely too long; the whole summer writing schedule has been heinous but hopefully that's going to get better! I really loved writing this chapter (when I could, bah), I really hope you love it :)

**February**

I love him when he’s like this. Sleepy and soft, warm and wonderful.

And mine. Just… _mine._

Buried deep and snug under the downiest of comforters, snow falling beyond the window in the dim winter light of mid-morning. His back to my front, I breathe in the lavender and vanilla, the cedar and sandalwood; our scents together creating something all our own.

This. This armful of beautiful boy. This is why I drove through the night to return a day early. It was good to be home again, truly; but the thought of yet another night without this brat in my arms was simply too…hollow. Hollow and grey.

Heaven help me, I’m lost to this little one now and forever.

And I want my way with him. Just a little. Quietly. We’re not alone. Mustn’t wake the two sleeping, just as cozy and snug, across the room.

As much as I adore my boy when he’s sleeping, loving him awake is purely addictive.

Sliding a hand over his side and feeling his sweet shiver. Spidering along the downy, barely-there fur of his lower belly; blowing away a wisp of hair to better nuzzle that delicious landscape between ear and chin. Slowly, so slowly, inserting a knee from behind into just the right place, the groove between the tenderness of his thighs. Buck him just the smallest bit and bite down, gently at first and then…not so gently…on that delicious terrain where his shoulder begins…

Feeling him begin to writhe, to _undulate._ Still mostly asleep, but unable to help how his body responds to mine and...ah yes, I feel him _responding_ indeed. Growing. Rising to the occasion of my waiting hand…

“ _Cas…?_ CAhmmph!!!” I clap a firm palm over his pretty lips before he wakes the room; his Sassifier must be in the blankets somewhere, it happens more often than not. Holding him in place, I don’t want him turning toward me. Not just yet. My other hand squeezes the deadliest spot on his ribs to show that struggling will cost him dearly; an indignantly helpless squeak or two erupt, before stillness tells me the message has been received.

Whispers mingled with nibbles along his ear: “Hush little boy, of course it’s me. I was no longer needed and I missed you entirely too much to wait until tomorrow. Now be quiet until I say otherwise; _I’m back and I want what I’ve been missing._ ”

I actually feel him remember that there are others in the room, his entire body telegraphs concern. I don’t intend my chuckle to be as dark as It sounds, even to me. “Those two are fast asleep; if you don’t want an audience, it’s simple: stay silent.” He slips bonelessly deeper into my arms, sighing with lusty resignation; he wants whatever I intend, he _needs_ my touch. But he’s sure it won’t be easy.

He’s right. It won’t be.

Ravishing him from shell of ear to smooth shoulder and back again, with lips and licks and bite after bite; just hard enough for the gasps and shudders that feed my want.  Rolling and flicking each luscious, ticklish nipple, pink and pretty and so very _sensitive_. Then circling with one finger, over and over and over, as lightly as I can, the mewling and snickering pleas for mercy fighting their way around my hand; glorious in their desperation. Slowly I begin to move the leg between his thighs until he’s essentially straddling my knee, gently bucking him again and again, the rhythm matching as I alternate stroking his near-to-bursting cock and tickling those poor, tormented nipples. I feel him begin the faintest of shakes, laughter lost in moans and his hardness growing impossibly harder still; he’s close, so close…

“...Gabe…?"

Sam sits up in my bed, scanning the room in the dim of mid-morning. My stroking ceases instantly; my boy’s jagged groan of outraged frustration lost into my hand and his pillow. I swallow the chuckle that would be both mean and in such poor taste; “soon”, I murmur, squeezing the plumpscious bubbles I missed so dearly.

He flinches, not violently but enough. Hmm…

It’s obvious that Gabriel’s not in my bathroom, nor anywhere else within sight. “Did you guys see him leave?” Sam’s voice is heavy, with both sleep and growing concern that he’s trying not to show.

“Dude, he prolly just went back to your room,” Dean mumbles half into his pillow, “text him and see. And tell him to go get coffee!”

Sam blinks, “why didn’t I think of that?” clearly going through his still-sleep addled thoughts. He finds his phone to text as I continue to subtly molest my brat beneath the blankets—

\--and we all pause when we hear the ‘URP’ of Gabriel’s phone receiving the message. It’s in here, on the floor by my bed. Sam picks it up. Along with the tie to his robe, which I believe is what was around Gabriel’s wrists last night.

Sam is less than pleased.

“Go on down to your room and see if he’s there, Sam; I’m sure he is. Bring him back here and we can all go for breakfast.” _And I can finish off my boy while you’re gone._

Nodding, Sam heads out. I thoroughly enjoy the _shriek_ of delighted agony I wring from my little one, as I immediately resume my earlier ministrations. 

 

  &+&+&+&+&                                    

 

Sam cannot have been gone more than twenty minutes and I’m already a hoarse sweaty fucking MESS and I’m basically gonna die if Cas doesn’t stoppit _fuckin' STOPPIT_ \--!!!

As soon as Sam was gone Cas went right the hell back to getting me off, his hands and then his mouth (oh my fucking GOD) and then his hands again, this *thing* he does with his thumb oh god...I came so hard my skeleton has got to have less calcium or something...

That’s when he turned into my old friend Cas the EvilRatBastard. Hey did you know guys are a gazillion times more ticklish right after we come? YOU KNOW IT NOW.  

The muffled death-rattle you hear is me fucking _screaming_ into my pillow; Cas has me trapped over his lap, one of his legs over mine and my wrists nice and pinned behind my back. He’s been tracing his GODDAMN NAILS all over my ass and the backs of my thighs and my knees for what has to be a year now and my brain is scrambled eggs I can’t do anything this is HELL AAHHHH--!!!

“CAH-CAS PLEAHEE—“ I can’t even beg right, he’s running one nail up and down the crack of my ass and it’s worse than a thousand ants crawling; my whole being aches from laughing like a mental patient and I’ll do anything he wants, anything…

“Tell me why this bottom is so red when I wasn’t here to make it so, and I’ll consider putting an end to my fun.”

\--except that. Crap this really is how I’m gonna die…yeah I know I have to tell him at some point but this is-- _FUCK NOT THE TOP OF THE CRACK PLEASE PLEASE PLEEAAAGGHHH---!!!!!!_

There’s a knock on the door; Cas stops (THANK FUCKING EVERYTHING) and yanks a blanket over us. Looking up through bleary pathetic eyes, I focus on Sam.

 Sam’s standing with his back against the door, his face a heinous mix of crankiness and, well, fear.

 _“Gabe’s Gone_ _.”_

Sam _hates_ not knowing where Gabe is. Come to think of it we all usually know; even Cas looks out for the little doofus, it’s just a thing with us…meanwhile Sam looks ready to pop like a balloon filled with anxiety:

“He’s not in our room. He’s not with Garth and nobody saw him at the dining hall and he wouldn’t go to breakfast without at least one of us anyways...! He’s just…gone!” Oh for...I'll handle this...

“Chill Sam, he didn’t run away with a bindle—“

Sam looks at me like a confused St. Bernard. 

“--that thing hobos use, the polka-dot hanky with the stick over their shoulder? That’s a bindle. I learned it on Steven Universe.”

“Oh.”

“—anyway he’s _Gabe_ ; you know he’s off somewhere being all dramatic and Gabe and…waitaminute….” I untangle from Cas and go over to the bed, on the side where Gabe was sleeping. Feel under the pillow, look around the carpet…it’s not there.

I didn’t think it was.

“I know where Gabe went. Let me go talk to him and we’ll be back in a few.” Predictably, Sam looks at me like I’ve lost my freakin’ mind.

“Where is he?? Take me with you and I can—!!”

“No, no you can’t. I’m not tryin’ to be all mysterious I swear, I just…I know what’s up with him and I need t’ talk to him by ourselves; trust me we’ll be right back, ‘k?”

Yeah no, it’s like I never even said anything. Sam’s got me by my arm headed for the door. “We gotta stop by my room to get my jacket and—“

_“Samuel.”_

Sam stops on the spot. Anybody would.

“Let Dean go and speak with Gabriel,” Cas crosses the room over to his little kitchen. “I’m sure they have much to discuss and Dean is likely correct about Gabriel needing him a little more right now. Come and sit down.” Cas pulls out a chair. Sam thinks about it for a half-second; he totally wants to make me take him to Gabe but doesn’t want to defy Cas, plus he knows I’m probably right. He huffs like a gigantic 5th-grader who just had recess taken away, but he sits. Leans his head back into Cas.

 “I wanna Bear Claw.”

Cas smiles a little while he runs a hand through that Sam hair.

“Sorry my boy, I’ve been away and I haven’t replenished your stock.”

“…there’s a stock of Bear Claws…?”  Sam drops his head on the table and Cas just *looks* at me:

“Never mind; go find Gabriel, young man. Now. Sam and I can have a nice talk about what all happened in my absence.” AW! As frustrated as he is, Sam’s grin at that and his look in my direction make me wanna just take off and never ever come back…UGH.

I’ll go find the little nimrod and bring him back, Maybe that’ll save me some skin.

Ok no, no it won’t, but a guy can dream…

 

 Yep, he’s right where I thought he’d be.

Sitting on his tree stump, like somebody left a sad little Raggedy Andy in the snow. I’ve seen him out here before, deep in the woods behind Meg’s house; he comes here when he wants to be by himself.

I think…I’m pretty sure this is where Sam chased him that first time. When things...changed…with those two. In fact I’d bet good money that’s the stump where Sam sat when he…yeah.

No wonder Gabe comes here to think.  To feel, well, grounded. I totally get it. I move towards him as quietly as I can so I don’t scare him…

“I know it’s you Failchester, Gimli made less noise at Loth ‘Lorien.”

Fine, I’m not James Fucking Bond and I’m damn sure not an elf. Bite me.

“Whatevs man, Cas had to go all “Castiel” on Sam to keep him from coming; you shouldn’t've  disappeared AND left your phone.” I hand him the to-go cup of hot chocolate I brought him, and his phone. Sip my coffee before staring him down.

“So where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“Dude don’t even, it’s entirely too cold out here.”

He looks at me, then down; his cheeks rosy and it’s not just the cold. Slides his phone into one pocket. And takes my Spiderman Sassifier out of another. Holds it out to me, reluctant as hell. I can’t help smiling a little. He really is like me…at least kind of…for some reason that makes me feel good. I wave a hand back towards his:

“Keep it, I don’t care; I just wanted to know if you had it on you. Sometimes…sometimes I keep one on me too. Don’t ask me why, I just…do.”  He’s still not looking at me but he seems really grateful, puts it right back where it was; if I wasn’t right here I betcha he’d pat that pocket. I always do.

“So wassamatta with you, huh? You all weirded out by, well, everything? It’s cool if you are, we can talk; I know last last night was…different.” At that he does look up at me. He shakes his head, grinning a little; gets up and starts pacing around in the snow.

“Nah man, that was all good.” I raise a brow at him, not a Dred-Brow but almost as serious. Whut.

“No seriously! I mean yeah it was _weird,_ but I don’t care about weird; you and Cas and me and Sam are all ‘weird’, I guess. But we’re all friends so it’s ok, y’know?”

I just nod, watching him pace faster; he’s gettin’  fired up about whatever’s messin’ with his head.

“Sam kissed me last night, Dean.”

‘Dean’, eh? He 'must' be freaked out. Meanwhile YAY them---! About time, says I…

 “Um, so…? That’s good, right?” Gabe stops pacing. Takes a sip from his cup and then sighs.

He’s…Sam’s all….fuck, Dean, he’s not gonna want me! Not like…not like Cas wants you! Or if he does he shouldn’t! I’m a fucking MESS dude, I do ‘wrong’ shit and I know it’s wrong and I do it anyway and then everybody hates me and thinks I’m this shitty idiot and I can’t let people see Sam 'with' me and think “Hey there goes Sam with that Shitty Idiot!” He paces even faster, he's really upset about--whatever the hell he just said--

Maybe I should’ve been expecting something like this but I so wasn’t. Pacifiers and having our asses spanked he’s fine with; a giant hot-as-fuck shampoo ad in love with him freaks him out. Alrighty then.

“…you know you’ve lost your mind, right? Nobody thinks like that, Gabe. Sure you fuck up and bug the crap outta people sometimes but they still love you, everybody does; and honestly? Whatever’s been goin’ on ‘tween you and Sam the last few months—and no I’m not gonna ask—“

He stops pacing and just _looks_  at me.

“ --ok yeah, it’s not like I have to ask after last night but ANYWAY, you’ve been waaayyy less batshit and much easier to take. And, well, I know I have too since I’ve been with Cas. I say if it’s right don’t fuck with it, and dude you *know* you and Sam work. Fuck making up reasons to not be with Sammy; get over yourself and just be happy, can’tcha?”

He starts up with the pacing again. “I just, I can’t do that—Sam deserves somebody smarter and shit. Not a disaster like my dumb ass…”

That’s it. I set my coffee cup on the stump and get right in Gabe’s face.

‘STOP. Stop talking about yourself like that or I swear I’ll smack your ass myself.” He blinks and backs up, totally off his game.

“The hell you will!” He’s all spluttery and ready to fight, actually he’s not but he can’t let _me_ know that. Yosemite Sam. With a Spiderman Sassi and hot cocoa. It'd be hilarious if I wasn't sick of him putting himself down--!

“Try me man, and if I don’t I know at least two other people who will.” He pauses as *that*  sinks in. Just the idea of both Cas _and_ Sam after you…hell even I can’t dwell on it, It’s too horrifying…

“Fine, shut up, you get where I’m coming from though! Sam needs—“

“I think you need to talk to Sam about what Sam needs. He’s pretty sharp, he probably knows what’ll make him happy. Apparently that’s YOU.” 

Gabe sits back on the stump, defeated. And thinking. About what I said, and how he feels, and definitely about

 “Sam!”

Gabe’s phone’s chiming that he has a new text. He reads it, grinning a little. I take that as a good sign. “He wants us to come back to the Bunker; he wants to talk to me—“

  _Good!_

 “--and Castiel wants to talk to you. Says after last night he knows you’re feeling…loopy. Whatever that means.”

  _FUCK FUCKITY FUCK FUCK._

**_….FUCK._ **

&+&+&+&

 

We get back to the Bunker and I stop at my door while Failchester goes on down to Cas’ room, slow as hell; huh, he must be tired and loopy like Cas said...

I stand there a minute and watch; He knocks. The door opens and I see a hand shoot out, grab him by his shirt and yank him in damn near off his feet before the door slams behind him--!

Ok then. I’ll check on Chesty…tomorrow. Meanwhile…

 

“Sam?”

 

I kinda peer around the door when I open it, I dunno how much trouble I’m in, I want to know exactly where he is in case he’s planning to jump me as soon as I’m inside. Whatever dude, call me a wusspussy but if Han thought Chewie was gonna spank his ass you know he’d be careful as hell when he boarded the Falcon.

Sam’s back is to me; he’s putting his mattress on the floor next to mine the way we do sometimes to watch a movie or something. As soon as he hears me he stands up and before I know it he’s got me by the hand, pulling me all the way inside. Pushes me back against the closed door, starts taking off my Jacket while I’m _trying_ to talk some sense into him--!

 “We gotta talk Sam, I just left so I could think about stuff and I don’t know if _you_   thought about stuff before—well before last night and—SAM are you listening to me??”

“Yep.”

“….but you don’t care, do you.”

“Nope.”

“Dammit Sam, SERIOUSLY! Last night was awesome but we can’t be—it’s bad enough I let you beat my ass when I screw up, I guess I get that…but if I—if we—“ I can’t say it I can’t fuckin’ say it--!!!

Sam stops and looks down at me.

“If we what, Gabriel?” He’s holding my chin and rubbing my ear that ain’t fair dammit moving in closer and closer don’t kiss me Sam I can’t think when you--- _mmm o he tastes like snow and gumdrops and life how does he_ do _that then he’s not kissing he’s looking at me and I remember you have to breathe to not die_

He leans back a little but he’s still got me by the ear, nicely but still. I have to pay attention, right now he’s the whole world.

“If you love me? If I love you? If I wanna kiss you all the time, if I want you on my lap when we hang out just watchin' a movie or whatever…?” He lets go of my ear, takes both my hands in one of his Sam-paws and holds them up over my head; puts his lips right by my cheek and his voice is so low his words make thunder he *is* thunder inside me:

 _“_ If I like your hands tied? If I want all of you tied, by me and for me, to do what I want? And I know you want it too?  Because you do. Don’t you.”

I can’t even answer ‘cause his other hand is down in my—he’s-- _oh god OHAHH--_

_“Don’t you.”_

Pumping me over and over his lips burning my throat dying I’m dying but I like it I need it please Sam PLEASE—

**_“Don’t you.”_ **

The noises he pulls out of me can’t be human. Hell, that must be what it sounds like when Doves Cry.

Fine, more like when Turkeys Scream; screw you, whadda *you* sound like when you—!?! Ahh shuddup.

Meanwhile Sam produced a clean towel from somewhere near us, he’s wiping me down and he’s still holding my hands overhead _(sigh)_ while he’s talking to me:

“We can do whatever the hell we want. Don’t even have to call it anything if we don’t want to. We’re just *us*, Sam n’ Gabe, like always. Like we’ve been for months now. With just a few, well…additions.” He does that lopsided Big Bad Wolfy smirk….and yeah it makes my heart flip and flop, damn him…

“Sam, I’m not…I screw up all the time and…” He puts a finger on my lips to shush me. "Keep talkin' smack about yourself; watch what happens. In fact we should talk about leaving without telling me where you were and not taking your phone too...:" What NO NO NO c'mon--!

Too late, he's got me by the arm and a leg up on his desk chair and I'm up and over my jeans are down and ** _OW OW OWCH OW OW!!!!_** Only five but they HURT, dammit...

Sam flips me back over but doesn't put me down. We're across the room, he sits me on the bare metal where my mattress was (OW, fuck...); he pulls off my boots and socks and scoots off my jeans; holds up my left ankle (um, ok…) and pulls something out of his pocket:

It’s a strip of red plaid flannel, from one of his shirts. The one he’s always handing me when he thinks I’m too cold while we’re studying or whatever. He’s had it “forever”, he says, it’s way too big for me and you probably can’t even tell where he took off this piece. He’s tying it around my ankle with a *serious* knot.

It’s…it’s _Sam. Wrapped around me and tied tight it's SAM._

I like it.

And when I look back at him his eyes are so intense, kaleidoscopes with stars and magic mixed in, I can’t help breathing a little harder. Or maybe I’m not breathing at all.

“When this is on, you’re mine. To deal with the way I want. To play with the way I want. The way you want me to.” The kiss is so easy and good, we’re both a little dizzy when he lets me up for air.  

 “You can huff and puff as much as you need to about what a little badass you are and how you don’t have to listen to anyone, and I’ll pay about as much attention as I always do.” I blush at his freakin' *evil* grin, I can’t help it…

“--but as long as this stays tied, well, that’ll tell me what I need to know. Tell us both what you really want from me. So brat and holler all you please. Pull all the pranks you want. Just know that I’ll take care of it. Across my knee, or tied any way I see fit. Fit to be tied, all night if that’s what you need. If that’s what we want. ‘Cause what we want is all that matters.”

 Another kiss, he makes me want to stay just like this for the rest of ever and after...

I don’t care if I’m a total dweeb fuck-up. Sam wants me. 

Maybe I'll break up with him tomorrow...nah, he won't let me tomorrow either. 

'Cause he's Sam. And Sam loves me. 

 

 &+&+&+&

 

 Lying on the floor on our beds pushed together, wrapped up in blankets watching Eddie Izzard's 'Dressed To Kill', Gabe turns me on to the BEST comedians. There's a knock on the door, Gabe tucks his tied wrists under his blanket. Something about him hiding it, blushing when he does...makes me wanna just eat him up or kiss him for hours. I got it bad, I really do. I rub my bare foot against his ankle wrap on my way up to get the door.

it’s Dean and Castiel, still in pajama pants and t-shirts. Dean’s looking a little, uh…his eyes are kinda shiny and his cheeks are all flushed and red. I get the feeling there’s other cheeks just as red. Cas and I should start a club or something: Team Dean’s Red Cheeks. Heh, I bet that Officer Benny dude would join, I like him…meanwhile I wave them in past me; Cas must give the ass in question a pinch because Dean YIPS and twitches before:

“SAM I AM VERY SORRY FOR WHAT I DID LAST NIGHT PLEASE ACCEPT MY APOLOGY.” His eyes dart over to Cas, who’s leaning against my desk with his arms folded and that one eyebrow majorly raised.  Aw! Obviously there was a ‘discussion’ while I was dealing with Gabe…I can’t say I feel sorry for him but poor Dean’s rear-end must be Snap Crackle and POPPED by now…

“Apology accepted; c’mere.” I pull him into a hug, feel him melt a little. Last night was rough and so far today hasn’t been much easier. And I realize I’m friggin’ starving.

“We need Chinese; you guys wanna stay and watch something?” Cas’ eyes meet mine, we’re totally on the same page.

“Absolutely, thank you; Mr. Winchester, have a seat.”

I know what everybody likes by now; I sit at my laptop to order online, watching the other three arrange themselves on the mattresses in front of my tv. Dean just basically dissolves down next to Gabe, the two of them leaving room for Cas in between them. Gabe turns Eddie back on while Cas grabs one of my extra blankets and settles in. Dean automatically leans deep against Cas, visibly glad to be a Good Boy again; I don’t blame him, personally I plan to never be on the receiving end of the Wrath of Castiel…meanwhile Gabe keeps sitting upright, rigid even, ‘til Cas pulls him in closer. Gabe looks up at Cas, super-shy all of a sudden; it pops into my head that _he_ hasn’t actually apologized to Cas for…well, for leading Dean astray, basically. Yeah Dean makes his own decisions, but it’s not the first time Gabe’s jackassery’s caused trouble for both of them...his eyes say it all, sorry little dink that he is. Cas meets Gabe’s look with a warm one of his own; brushes one of Gabe’s stray curls from his forehead and kisses where the curl used to be. Gabe closes his eyes and kinda sighs, leans further into Cas’ side and relaxes more than I think I’ve ever seen; there’s definitely a connection starting with those two…Cas keeps his eyes on Gabe while Dean’s are on me. He’s got that sleepy, crooked grin he gets when he thinks that right now the whole world is perfect.

I finish the order and climb under a blanket on the other side of Gabe. Feel his solid little self against me. Above him, Cas gives my arm a squeeze.

I’m with Dean. Right now, the whole world is perfect.  

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming soon: Sam and Cas (that certain interaction you've all been waiting for) and Crowley and basic shenanigans, Team Free Love style ;)


	5. Brat On a Hot Tin Roof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As soon as our door is closed I basically throw Gabe onto our bed; he bounces on his belly and flips onto his back, to see where I am and what I’m doing and to get his backside out of my sight. Like I’ll just forget that it exists. Like I’m ever not thinking, at least a little, about that particular portion of his anatomy since…since we’ve been this. And he knows that just because he’s answered to Cas doesn’t mean he won’t have to deal with me. It doesn’t automatically work like that ‘round here. Dean knows just as well, for that matter…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. It's been forever. I know. Those headaches I was having turned out to be severe High Blood Pressure, I spent a few days in the hospital. The meds made me crazy tired and dizzy at first, they still kinda do. It was hard to focus for awhile there, but I'm getting better and stronger and hopefully chapters won't be this long in coming. No promises but I'll do my best, hope you like this one! And thank you, as always, for the comments and kudos; I love you guys ♥

You know those summer days where the sun feels like it's shining directly on your skull, and it's gotta be at least a thousand degrees outside? Those are always the days I tell my housemates with the nice, air conditioned cars that I don’t need a ride and walk to work, where I spend the day convincing tiny people that sandbox sand is not a food group. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job; summer day camp is amazing and fulfilling and...and I've had finger paint and glitter in places I'd rather not mention, and definitely can't scratch in front of a bunch of five year olds, for hours. I'm so happy the day is done; I want a serious shower and my air conditioned room. And the brat who's probably home and reading in our bed by now; Gabe should have been done his shift at the candy store a good hour ago. In fact, since it's Thursday chances are he's making something for dinner right about now, and it’ll be amazing because Gabe is a straight-up excellent cook. Says his brother taught him; I really need to meet this Michael.

And so it's not surprising, when I get through the back door and into the kitchen, that the first thing I see is Gabe sitting at the table, his back to me while Cas is leaning over...I dunno what but it smells friggin' _incredible._..at the stove. Cas smiles at me and nods a hello; I'm about to say "Hi" to both of them when I realize...um, yeah.

Gabe's not sitting on a chair.  He's perched, carefully, on the top rung of the kitchen stepladder.

The one he's supposed to use if he needs something out of his reach and none of us non-Shire folk are around to grab it for him. The one Castiel makes him sit on for a while if he's been busted climbing around on the counters instead of using it. Gabe makes up for being so much shorter than the rest of us by climbing all over the freakin’ kitchen, he *hates* asking for help and he’s been scolded by everyone in the house for it; he’s dropped jars and broken cups and he’s gonna slip and break himself one of these days…! None of us are serious neat freaks but Cas actually turns green at the thought of dirty feet up on the nice clean counters; apparently he decided to take it from just scolding to the next level before I could, and there’s definitely no arguments from me. ALL we need is to come home to find the little doofus fell and he was all alone and...UGH he’s lucky Cas is dealing with this one or he wouldn’t be able to sit even that comfortably. Usually, and it’s safe to say there’s a usually at this point, Cas and I will have at least a quick text exchange before we deal with the brat that technically belongs to the other; neither of us really cares about protocol, at this point we’d trust each other with our lives much less the two spoiled rottens whose fingers we’re hopelessly, pathetically wrapped around…but it seems like the polite thing to do when there’s time. 

Some days there just isn’t. And you come home to find your little devil’s already paid for his sins. It can actually make for a much calmer evening. Definitely quieter.

Speaking of quiet (excuse the bad pun in there somewhere), sure enough when Gabe hears me and turns toward me--yup, he looks like one of those seventies Big Eyes paintings and he’s got his Nuk. The special red one that says 'MUTE' in yellow letters (Dean has one just like it but different colors). Meaning he gave Cas a little lip at some point and had the privilege of speech taken away. And now he's sitting silently--GABRIEL is sitting silently--snapping green beans in a silver bowl. In just a plain blue t-shirt and the "Horton Hears a Who!” boxers he likes to wear to bum around the house. And one sock; I’d bet my share of the rent that he kicked off the other one flailing over Cas’ knee. Shifting around and gazing at me all furrow-browed, just enough that I know his non-behaving little patoot probably matches his soother.

Have I mentioned that Cas is not to be messed with? I plan to stay on his good side forever plus a day. Meanwhile he looks from Gabe to me and shakes his head, his eyes telling me it’s not serious but definitely needed to be handled.

“Where?” That’s all I have to say, I’m glaring at Gabe but we all know who I’m talking to.

“The cabinets up over the refrigerator—“

“That high?? He knows better than that…”

“--with his feet on the shelf IN the refrigerator—“

“EW GROSS, again??” I feel my face twist in dark disgust and Gabe squirms even more, his Nuk swirling in the figure-eight it does when he’s particularly guilty.

“Indeed; he wanted the largest pan up there for his mac n’ cheese.”

“And so instead of using the stepladder he just—wait he made his mac n cheese??” I bend around Cas a little to see—ooohhh yeah, the Golden Goodness is steaming behind him. Gabriel really does stay alive by redeeming himself with his cooking; he makes this macaroni and cheese with FOUR kinds of cheese, plus sausage and bacon and basically whatever else he feels like adding; it’s AMAZING, like something they’d serve at Hogwarts with butter beer and an owl sitting next to you. I have to make myself focus on Gabe and not on shoving poor Cas aside to push my face into that pan.

“How many times is this now?” I’m doing my best to maintain the Bad Boy Glare, I really am. But the Brat Supreme knows me, knows good and well that all I really want is a cool shower and like half that mac n cheese pan and then, well, _him_. Which is why his attempt at looking sorry is failing so badly and—yep, there’s that tiny Gabe Grin trying to get out from behind his Nuk. Brat.

“More than I care to count. He and I had a brief but serious discussion though, and his own wooden spoon joined the conversation—“

Oh ouch. Even I know that spoon bites, guess it was a good ‘talk’.

“--so hopefully this was the last time. It was, wasn’t it Gabriel?”

At Castiel’s tone Gabe turns to him and instantly sits up straighter, and even I’m more at attention, I can’t help it. Gabe wags his head ‘yes’, giving Cas THE most phony baloney innocent look; I swear he can will his eyelashes to grow longer when he wants to. Cas and I both snort, shaking our heads.

“Dinner needs to cool off and so do I. Cas, may I spring the monkey here from jail to keep me company?” Cas narrows his eyes at Gabe all dramatically, who does his best impression of an angel who’d never ever misbehave; Cas holds out an arm, Gabe slides off the stepstool to lean into Cas’ chest. Cas wraps the arm around him for a squeeze and a noisy peck to his forehead, popping the soother out in the process. After a moment of watching the two of them (Cas and Gabe are ridiculously sweet together), I grab Gabe by the back of his t-shirt and ignore his “DUDE!!!” as I haul him off to our room. I hear Cas chuckle while he starts more cooking, with four of us we'll need a side-dish or three...

As soon as our door is closed I basically throw Gabe onto our bed; he bounces on his belly and flips onto his back, to see where I am and what I’m doing and to get his backside out of my sight. Like I’ll just forget that it exists. Like I’m ever not thinking, at least a little, about that particular portion of his anatomy since…since we’ve been this. And he knows that just because he’s answered to Cas doesn’t mean he won’t have to deal with me. It doesn’t automatically work like that ‘round here. Dean knows just as well, for that matter…

I cross my arms over my chest and pin him with the ‘look’ he and Dean both hate. Or so they say.

“Give me a reason.”

Whatever snark he was about to utter wisely dies on his tongue. His eyes widen and he starts nibbling on his bottom lip; he knows exactly what I’m asking for. A satisfactory reason not to turn him over my knee. The right answer will make this evening a lot more comfortable for him. The wrong one, well…

I promised I’d always be good to him.

I never promised I’d always be nice.

“Aw c’mon Sam! Castiel already—we *talked* and it won’t happen again I swear!” Not good enough. We both know it. I stroke my non-existent beard and start towards the *Fun* drawer. Fun for me anyways. Usually fun for him too, not always but that’s totally his doing.

“WAIT NO—I’ll—I’ll scrub out the fridge and I’ll—um—I’ll--“ He flounders while I take out ‘Zuki. Hold her under my nose and make a big deal of taking in her scent. “Mmmm, old leather and fresh trouble…” Turn toward him and—

“WE CAN DO THAT THING YOU LIKE WITH THE BATH BRUSH!!!”

Oh. Well then.

Damn, Cas must’ve been even more thorough than I thought if Gabe’s actually volunteering to do…that…for me. I turn Evil McConaughey in my head: alright alright alright.

Gotta do something nice for Cas sometime soon.

 

 

Turns out that a nice cool shower is a good idea for both of us. Apparently it feels “unfuckingbelievable” on a recently heated ass. A round little ass I like to hold onto while I’m on my knees having glitter and sand washed from my hair. Gabriel is the best when it comes to washing my hair.

I’d have thanked him but my mouth was full. I showed my appreciation in several ways.

After we’re both dry…something that takes oh so much time because I like to make sure every bit of him has had some attention with the nice fluffy towel…I decide we’re having a quick nap before dinner. Funny, I win the argument over whether he should have his phone to play on while I sleep. And now he’s out cold on my chest, snuffling softly.

Those new handprints on the backs of his thighs are light. They’ll fade before he even wakes up I’m pretty sure.

Meanwhile I hear the door, the last of us is home for the night. Dean’s steps clip through the house to the kitchen, knowing his routine I can picture him getting himself a cream soda before he goes to find Cas…

“AAGH EWW THERE’S A TOE PRINT IN THE FREAKIN’ BUTTER AGAIN SOMEBODY BEAT GABE’S ASS!”

I love living here.

I give the tender backside under my hand a squeeze, enjoying the sleepy, cranky little whimper, as I drift off right along with him.

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

 

I seriously love summer nights. Especially when we’re all home. It’s just…nice.

 The housemates are still sleeping from when they crashed before; Gabe needs a nap after having his ass walloped anyways, I got the impression Cas was the one who busted him and he wasn’t that hard on the crazy little butter-toed dinkus, but even if it’s not terrible it wipes Gabe out (I’m not much different for what it’s worth). That’s ok, they’ll eat later and then we’ll all prob’ly walk down to the waterfront; there’s a festival this week, we’ve been down a few times to grab some fried ice cream or play a game or something. Being just a few blocks from the water is all kinds of awesome this time of year…

Cas’ cell chimes while I’m getting a drink; he’s kinda frowning when I drape myself back over him on the sofa. “Wassup”?

“I’m going back to the theater for a bit, apparently a few measurements were off on that backdrop.”

“Aw don’t, not tonight! When those two got up again we were gonna—“ He stops me with a kiss before dumping me out of his lap, I follow him to the front door.

“I'm aware, the festival, you three go if you like; my body’s had its fill of food the color of juke box lights anyway.” Cas slides into his loafers and gives me another (stupidly good) kiss, plus one to my forehead. ‘Cause if I don’t get that one I’ll feel totally incomplete as a human and he knows it.

 “I’ll be back before Eleven or so. Be good for Sam.” He’s not totally serious but I cannot just let that slide.

“…excuse me? You know I’m an adult right?”  I puff out my chest and raise one eyebrow, which wasn’t lame before I met the King of eyebrow-raising dammit…

Instead of the bigger, badder Dred-Brow I was expecting, his eyes go soft but…scary, serious…while he gently pulls me closer by the –C- on my chain.

“Then be good for _me.”_

He runs his lips and teeth up my neck, sending unbelievable shivers up and down my spine; shoves me back and winks (geezus his winks make me weak) as he closes the door behind him.

I’m leaning with my forehead against the door. One day when he’s just leaving for a little while my stupid heart won’t think he’s gone forever.

This is not that day.

I wander around the house, suddenly lonely as fuck. I don’t wanna watch tv by myself and if I go over my lines for Guys and Dolls one. More. Time. Today my head will melt. I’m as ready as I’m gonna be, at least for now.

I shouldn’t bother Sam ‘n Gabe. I’m an adult and I can amuse myself.

I’ll just, um, see if they’re still sleeping. That’s just checking, not bothering. Shut up.

Huh, they didn’t lock their door. Nobody locks the bedroom doors around here, we just kinda know when it’s cool to walk in versus when it’s really, REALLY not…

I’m _not_ gonna wake them. Just gonna pull the sheet up over Gabe a little more, he looks like he might be cold. Yeah I know it’s a thousand degrees out but still, the air conditioner’s on and Sam’s all the way on the other side of the bed, Gabe could get Summer Frost Bite or whatever. He needs body heat, right? Right.

“…Dean…?” 

What? I didn't wake him, he's been known to sleep right through me playing with his bellybutton. Not my fault he has an outie and messin' with it's like Crack. He's squirming now, giggling a little, he's cute when he's  not being a public menace...he smacks my hand and I stop, rubbing his belly instead. 

“Shush, go back to sleep; I’m keeping you warm.” I’m totally not squishing him like my own personal Glow-Worm. This is for his benefit not mine. Because I’m awesome.

“…where did Castiel go?” We’re both whispering; Sam hasn’t moved, even when I crawled in, he obviously needs the rest.

“what makes you think Cas—“  At that he makes a cranky Gabe “don’t even try it” noise and reaches back to pinch my thigh.

“Owtch fine! Cas had to go back to the theater, he’ll be back later.”

“….and you had to come bug us?”

“I’m not bugging you! I’m just…you looked chilly."

“Stop it.”

“You did! And now you’re up, you should come eat dinner and watch something with me. Let Sammy sleep awhile longer.” I feel him thinking about it while he plays with the hairs on my arm that’s around his middle; he does this thing where he rolls the hairs between his fingers, it’ll put me to sleep if we stay like this for long…

“…sold, I’m hungry. Then maybe we can walk down and see the fireworks, yeah?”

The festival down by the lake does fireworks every night this week; he feels me nod ‘yes’ and we slink out of bed, he slides on a pair of shorts while I grab his sandals; if Sam’s still sleeping later we won’t have to come back in here before we head out.  

 

Sam never did wake up, Gabe finished eating and we’ve watched two episodes of Rick and Morty on Demand and we haven’t heard a peep. Cas isn’t home yet either...

“Wanna head down? The fireworks’ll be starting soon and I want a frozen banana anyway.” Gabe nods and puts his sandals on while I turn off the TV; I start towards the spot by the back door where my shoes are when Gabe goes by me, fast.

Like he’s got an idea.

An idea he needs to make happen before someone stops his crazy ass. And I’m the only one both here and awake. Lucky fucking me.

Sure enough, I follow him out back and he’s…climbing the fence over to MacLeod’s??

“Gabe what the fuck??” GET BACK HERE.” Too late, the nut is already taking MacLeod’s ladder out of MacLeod’s shed and putting it up against Macleod’s house. Which is two stories higher than the ranch we rent from him.

…meaning you can see the fireworks from the roof. Which is where Gabe is headed NOPE NOPE NOPE FUCK NO.

Allow me to mention that our landlord is a HORRIBLE FUCKING PERSON. Fergus MacLeod is a sucker of ass and a lousy individual. He’s this creepy arrogant-as-fuck dude in a suit at all times (!) with a British accent, and he thinks the sun doesn’t shine ‘til he wakes up. Never fixes anything, the dryer broke the week we moved in and MacLeod kept saying he’d take care of it but never showed or sent anybody; luckily Sam’s good at that stuff or we’d be screwed. Asshole actually kept our Frisbee when it went over the fence like a bad neighbor in a movie…! Said he never saw it but I know he did dammit. He works weird hours as some kind of insurance salesman or whatever, so he’s never home at least. Unless we want some peace and quiet on a morning we’re off work; that’s when he’s up and watching while he has his lawn mowed, and his mower is loud as shit; I HATE that guy--!!!! And of course Cas says to be nice to him, it’s only for the summer, kill him with kindness…that’s not how I’d like to do it. He does seem to kinda-sorta respect Cas, the rest of us he treats like crap. And the only thing worse than him is his nasty little shit of a cat, Crowley. Jet black with red--yes RED--eyes, all it does is slither around the neighborhood like a fat snake waiting to trip you. Seriously everyone in the house has damn near killed ourselves almost falling over the damned thing, he waits ‘til you have groceries or a big-ass package or whatever and he’s RIGHT there between your feet. Plus he’s forever killing birds and other stuff and dragging little bodies into OUR yard, I swear I saw him with a hand once--! Sam said that’s insane but I still have bad dreams about it….

 

Meanwhile Gabriel is trying to get us both murdered, MacLeod does NOT like anyone on his side of the property line; Sam and Cas have both said we need to just leave MacLeod alone and not antagonize him. That was after Gabe and I, see we got these rubber spiders and snakes and…let’s just say we paid for it (a LOT) and had to apologize. And I still didn’t get my goddamned Frisbee back.

Gabe’s up the freakin’ ladder before I’m even over the fence, most of the neighborhood’s at the festival thank whoever. Or they hate MacLeod so they won’t rat even if they do see us…his car’s not there and the house is dark so we know he’s not home but STILL—I’m at the bottom of the ladder, ready to either drag Gabe down by his face or go get Sam before MY ass ends up grass too. Because this will just NOT end well, Gabe’s bullshit never does--!!

“GABE bring your ass right back down here!!!” I can’t even see him, he’s on the other side now.

“The fireworks are starting Chesty, c’mon up it’s amazing!” Sure enough  hear them going off, I bet it does look excellent—NO. This is how I get pulled into shenani-Gabe nonsense and wind up a sore ass for my trouble.

“Gabriel I swear to GOD if you don’t come down I’ll get Sam right now!” That’s really all I have to say; sure he'll call me a wusspussy but I’m betting his rear-end is done with Uppercase SAM for today. Sure enough I hear him sigh and start towards my side of the house.

“FINE, be that way Failchester, you coulda just—AHH OH FUCK CHESTY C’MERE!!!!!”

I heard him slide a little oh god is he caught on something oh god oh shit I’m up on the roof before I even know it and—

\--and he’s lying against the slant of the roof, hands behind his head. Just grinning.

“….and now that you’ve joined me let’s watch the rest of the show!”

I fell for it. As usual. No big deal, I’ll just destroy anything Sam leaves. Because I’m totally telling, he fought dirty so all bets are off.

“Bite me Gabe, that wasn’t cool! I’m going in and I’m waking up Sam and heEEEOWAAAUUGHHFUCK---!!!!!” I damn near kill myself because that DAMNED CAT CLIMBED UP BEHIND ME AND JUST BIT ME IN THE CALF FUCK ME

….aaaand of course I kicked out at the Satan’s Creature that bit me.

And of course I missed the cat but not the ladder.

The ladder that’s now down on the ground.

This right here. This is how it all ends. Up on a roof with the King of Conning me and The Cat from Hell.

 

 

 &+&+&+&+&

 

 

“We may as well just watch man, we can’t get down ‘til somebody puts the ladder back and that ain’t happenin’ anytime soon.”

He’s right; Sam’s still out cold as far as we know, we dunno when Cas will be back and MacLeod could be days. If we’re lucky. And neither of us has our phone--! Mine’s on the couch and I don’t remember Gabe grabbing his…

“Know what you’re thinking and nope, I left my phone with my house keys and wallet; on the table on the back porch. Face it dude, we’re stuck for awhile.”

“How are you so calm??” If MacLeod comes back—“ I don’t want to even think about it, this just sucks all around. I look at that stupid awful cat. He looks at me and before I know it he’s jumped to the nearest tree limb--too far to help us but fine for a jackhole cat--and he’s just…gone. Easy Peasy.

My god do I hate that fucking furry little prick.

“….then we’ll tell him we were trying to help his dipshit cat that was stuck up here and the ladder fell. I don’t care if he buys it or not, it’s a story.”

“Sam won’t believe that and I’m not lying for you!” Gabe knows it’s not even that I’m pissed; we just…we don’t lie. Not to each other, not to Sam or Cas. We probably couldn’t even if we wanted to, not with straight faces, but there’s some, I dunno…honor-thing between all of us. We don’t treat each other wrong, not really. Not on purpose.

Unless you count Gabe getting me in trouble every other day godDAMMIT….Gabe blows out a big puff of air and just watches the fireworks, he’s, like, resigned or something:

“They won't make you pay for this one, Chesty. This is on me. They both just told me to stop climbing shit for fuck’s sake, and this is WAY past not using the stepstool in the kitchen. This is….I’m screwed. Period. But not you, I made you come up here. I thought I was being funny but that was shitty, I’m sorry.”

Carefully, really freakin’ carefully, I crab-crawl over to him; the roof is just slanted enough that you don’t want to walk around, not In the dark anyway. “I’m mad at you, moron, but it IS a nice view.” The lake is gorgeous from up here and the fireworks really are awesome. May as well just chill for now…

We lay against the roof in silence for a few minutes. I know him though, he 'cant' be quiet for long. 

Not with a captive audience. 

"Hey Chesty, whadaya call a pony with a sore throat?”

"...no. Don't even start that shit."

'C'mon Failchester, a pony with a sore throat??"

“Gabe I swear to God…..”

“A little hoarse!” Oh for--UGH!!

"Gabriel I’m serious—"

"Well hey Serious, I thought you were Dean!”

“Oh fuck you and you are NOT telling me crap like that all flippin’ night!” I glare at him HARD, we will get down from here eventually and I WILL cause him hurt. He pouts but that skunky little gleam is still in his eye…I narrow my own eyes so he knows I’m freakin' serious…

“No more friggin’ jokes, I mean it!”   
…..  
……....

“ANYBODY WANNA PEANUT??”

_"GODDAMN IT GABRIEL!!!!!"_

&+&+&+&+&

  
It’s the damndest thing. We’ve only been…us…for a few months, but if I reach for Gabe in my sleep and he’s not there I am *instantly* awake; I have to know he’s good and safe and not somewhere being ‘Gabe’ all over an unsuspecting world. Or himself. 

Usually he’s just in the bathroom or out back reading or whatever; he learned pretty fast not to really make me go looking for him.

So here I am looking for him. GRRR. Apparently further “discussion” is needed tonight. 

But….something’s really not right, Dean's phone was on the sofa and Gabe's was on the back porch table, they wouldn’t both go anywhere without their phones; it’s dark and this is NOT OKAY and I don’t wanna call Cas and technically those two fools are adults and can go where they please but still they wouldn’t just—

“SAMMY”

I whip my head around. D…? The hell, is he hiding…??

“Sammy over here!” What the fu—WHY IS DEAN OVER ON MACLEOD’S ROOF--!!?!

“….Dean?? The hell are you IS THAT GABE OF COURSE IT IS GET THE FRICK DOWN NOW.” I’m at the fence so we can hear better since for some reason we’re scream-whispering.

It’s dark as shit but I could feel him roll his eyes at me, brat… “The ladder fell, we’ve been up here for like two hours; hop the fucking fence and put it back!” Gabe hasn’t said a thing yet. Good. He’ll need his voice for all the crying and sorries later. They both will, I am not happy and when Cas hears—

_CAS_

_SHIT HE LEFT SO I WAS IN CHARGE NOW THEY’RE ON THE ASSHOLE NEIGHBOR’S ROOF OH FUCK I FAIL AT LIFE_

I don’t even think I just move; use one of the old lawn chairs for a boost and hoist myself over the fence, the ladder’s right by the side of the house at least. It’s heavy as hell but I get it back to where Itchy and Scratchy can climb their soon-to-be burning asses back down.

As soon as the ladder’s up against McLeod’s house I see Dean crab-walk over to it; it’s steady but I still find myself bracing the bottom for dear friggin’ life. My heart doesn’t slow down ‘til he’s safe on the ground in front of me looking like I might cook him and eat him. I just freakin’ might. “get over the fence and wait on the back porch,” is all I say, growl really; Dean opens his mouth to say—I dunno what because I take ONE step toward him and suddenly he’s gone. Good. Meanwhile I see the other one about to come down the ladder and my heart goes back to frantic: before I know it I’m at the top. He just…he looks so _small_ for cryin’ out loud….he doesn’t know what to do when he sees me up when he was on his way down.

“Sam?! Uh. what exactly are you—“

“NOT ONE WORD. Just start climbing down. I got you.”

My voice and my face tell him to do as I say NOW. Silently he turns around and climbs down a step or two until he's between my arms, and we climb down together, his back to my front and his feet in between mine. I'm surrounding him; if we fall he'll land on me. I’ve done it a thousand times at work when a little one is afraid to climb down the railings on the monkey bars; I’m doing it now for my own monkey. From way too high up this time…

Once we’re at the bottom I grab him up and sling him over my shoulder, hauling his nutty little ass back to the fence where I help him (ok toss him, lets call it what it is) up and over. Gabe immediately starts for the house; my handful of the back of his shirt shuts that shit down with the quickness. Shove him down none-too-gently next to Dean, who’s sitting on the steps like a prisoner having one last smoke before they shoot him. I stand over them both waiting to hear—something, anything—that makes sense.

Neither says a word. Gabe looks guilty, Dean like his head’s about to explode.

“Well??” at that Dean jumps up and begins a serious tirade:

Don’t EVEN be lookin’ at me! I went up there to get *him* down and then that nasty little piece-o-shit cat Crowley BIT me and the ladder fell and ten thousand corny-ass JOKES and--dammit kill that Demon Cat and kill HIM,” pointing at Gabe, “but I was just tryin’ to—“

“Oh fuck you Furious George! You didn’t hafta fall for it and come up after me and you KNOW you liked the fireworks--!!!” Dean looks friggin’ appalled and about ready to murder Gabe, and I guess I don’t blame him; this is sooo not the first mess Gabe’s gotten him into…I hold a hand up to stop them both and lower Dean’s blood pressure.

“ENOUGH. That’s enough. Gabriel, go to our room and wait for me.”

“But Sam it's okay, nobody saw us and—“

“NOW.” Gabe’s lips snap together so hard Dean and I both hear it. I see his eyes start to shine with tears, that bottom lip gives just the smallest quiver, before he slinks his way into the house. Dean’s just shaking his head, bent and wiped and just…done. I put a hand on his back, feel his heart like a jackrabbit trying to slow down.

“Cool down Dean, I get it. I do. Thank you for trying to help, Gabe’ll be making it up to you. If there’s anything left when I’m done.” That gets a snort. Good, he’s calming down.

“Why didn’t you just come and wake me?” Dean’s breathing’s settled, he runs a hand over his face and now he just looks…resigned.

“I dunno man, I didn’t think I had to bother you; I figured we’d just come right back down and that would be that, if that goddamned cat didn’t make me drop—“

THE LADDER. THE LADDER THAT’S STILL UP AGAINST MCLEOD’S HOUSE AH SHIT.

We both realize at the same time. Dean turns ghost-pale and heads back toward the fence.

“NO Dean, I’ll go, if McLeod comes back I'll get reamed the least and you know it." It's true, he hates everyone but I think my height makes him nervous, he's a little less of an asshole to me than Dean or Gabe...

 “Fair enough, I'll wait for you here. Just watch out for that damned cat. He made me lose the ladder in the first place, little shit…”

I'm already over the fence yet again; grab the ladder and I'm about to put it in the shed where MacLeod keeps it. 

“Don’t be like that Dean, it’s not the cat’s fault; you two had no business up there in the first plaAAUUGHHH—!!!!!!“

And that’s when I feel something my brain reads as  _alive that shouldn’t be squished_ around my big-ass feet and I trip like a dope in a bad cartoon; I scramble with the stupid freakin’ ladder and hear the awful CRASH when it breaks the shed’s nice shiny window.

FUCK. ME. I see two slanted red eyes glowing under MacLeod’s porch and I swear on my life I hear that heinous little asshole cat laugh--!!

I get my balance and go forward again; bring the ladder out of the window and put it back where it belongs. My mind is racing while I head back to the fence; I’ll come over tomorrow and quietly tell MacLeod…I dunno, something that feasibly could’ve happened…and offer to fix it; I actually know how. At least he’s not home and I have time to--

“Hello Boys.”

Oh god. Oh NO.

I think…no actually I know….that we are well and truly fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, I'm having fun with what happens next! >:-)


	6. Let's Make a Deal!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before I know what he’s doing he’s lying on his bed and he’s pulled me down next to him, turning off the lamp while I’m laying on my front with my boxers still down around my thighs. In the darkness he starts rubbing my…the sting’s going away. So why I’m even closer to crying, I don’t know. I just know that being nice to me is a dirty trick, I fold like a cheap pair of socks...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a wee bit shorter than my usual updates, I believe the next few will be about this length but arrive a bit faster; that's just how the story is currently flowing :)

“Now look Mr. MacLeod, we were just—“ MacLeod holds a hand up and I stop talking; it’s not like I knew exactly what I was gonna say anyway. Dean stands basically frozen on the safe side of the fence, he doesn't know what to do anymore than I do; I’m freakin’ praying MacLeod didn’t see him or Gabe when they were over here...

“I don’t want to know. I don’t NEED to know. The bottom line is that you, my young Jolly Green, were on my property. Uninvited to say the least. And managed to oaf a lovely hole into the door of my shed. That about sums it up, yes?”

Is that all he knows? If it is, GOOD.

“You’re right, I was just—“ Again with the hand, he cuts me off and Dean’s about to say something—

“Nothing out of you, little squirrel. Scurry your way inside so I can talk to your moose of a flatmate here privately.” I actually hear Dean bristle at the names and he’s probably about to make things worse--!

“DEAN. Go on inside, I’m ok.” 

“But low-rent Mr. Belvedere is poppin’ shit Sammy! I don’t care what we--!!!” The _look_ I give him shuts him down, the LAST thing we need is for him to lose his temper and reveal stuff MacLeod does NOT need to know if he doesn't already. Dean gives MacLeod a scowl that would seriously worry the average guy; he turns and trudges off to the house, not seeing that MacLeod just…smiles. It flicks my heart like icy cold fingers.

But even if it’s summer and yes he’s freakin’ me out a little, I am not lettin’ this jerk see me sweat. I draw myself up to my entire height and square my shoulders.

“I can repair your shed, Mr. MacLeod, I know how and I’ll pay for the materials myself. Just let me get down to the Home Depot tomorrow after work.”

MacLeod looks me up and down for a long, horrible minute. I’m wearing sweats and a t-shirt but I feel…totally naked. Like this asshole in his black suit can see into my soul and wants it for...I don’t even know what but it’s _hard_ not to squirm.

The last person I want to see right now is Cas but for a second I totally wish he was here.

MacLeod nods. “Oh yes, you’ll fix my shed. Among other things.”

…what.

“That’s all I broke that I know about, was there something else inside or—“

“Not exactly. You see, now you owe me, and you _do_ owe me unless I’m mistaken and you’d enjoy my having a nice chat with the police?”

“--the POLICE?!? You don’t need to--!!!” My lungs clench, that barely even occurred to me; MacLeod’s a prick but c’mon now--!

My face must show my fucking panic because he comes closer, waving a hand at me all dismissive:

“Calm yourself boy, you’re absolutely right; we’re all friends and neighbors, landlord and tenants; no need to get the authorities involved. Including your Castiel; he seems to wear the biggest of the Big Boy pants in your little household and I’m guessing you’d prefer he didn’t catch wind of this bit of…errant behavior on your part?”

_We don’t keep secrets we don’t we trust each other but this is big this was stupid what’ll Cas say I was in charge I think no I totally was what’ll he SAY I don’t know I don’t know what to do_

MaCleod’s watching me, waiting for me to come to the nasty conclusion that he knew I would.

I’m fucked.

I’ll do whatever the hell he says if it means Castiel will still trust me. Still teach me how to…take care of people. Our way. Like I do for Gabe and sometimes Dean and like Cas does for all of us. I know this is insane, Cas would forgive me, but I keep imagining the look on his face _before_ he forgave me and I can’t…I just can’t.

Slowly I nod at MacLeod. Apparently it’ll be him calling me bitch, not Dean…

“I thought so. Well no worries lad, no reason for anyone but you and me to know that you and I now have…an understanding.” He pats my cheek and I’d love to push his head down into his overblown chest.

Instead I just stand there. Because I don’t know what else to do.

“Be on my doorstep at 5:30am. You’ll find a list of morning and evening chores and repairs and duties. One minute later and—ah but that won’t happen, will it? You’ll be an extra-early rising Gigantor for me, won’t you. Meantime I’m sure you can find your way back over my fence, let it be a reminder of what got you into this--new and interesting situation--in the first place.”

And he’s gone with a smile that would scare Tim Curry, in a whiff of his _Eau de la Fuckstick_ cologne, into his house. While I stand there ready to either burn down the neighborhood or sit on the grass and fucking cry.

_Or call Cas and tell him everything and beg him to come home and—_

\--NO. I made this mess. Or maybe I didn’t but it happened on my watch, same thing.

I’ll deal with it. I kept Gabe and Dean out of MacLeod’s piggy little Batman Villian clutches and Cas doesn’t ever need to know how hard I failed.

 

I can do this.

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

They told me to go into the house. They never said _stay_ in the house.

As soon I’m outta sight I slide my awesomely stealthy ass out the front door (after I check that Gabe is in his and Sam’s room, nice and safe so somebody can kill him later) and Mission Impossible myself to the other side of the fence.

I can’t see, but I can hear.

And NO WAY am I letting Sammy become some bullshit slave for fucking MacLeod. I’m telling Cas as soon as he gets home, he won’t be happy (can’t decide if I’m stupid enough to hide the Loopy or not) but we’ll work it out.

We work everything out. It’s what we do.

I’m on my way back to the front of the house when I see Sam in the doorway. Waiting for me. GOOD. No way we’re not talking about this! I march myself right past him, he shuts the front door and hustles me down to the basement to talk; the minute we’re down here I’m right in his grill:

“Sammy there’s NO WAY—he can’t just--“

“Forget it, Dean. If you heard all that then you know I don’t have a choice.”

What!? “Of fucking COURSE you do, tell that suit-hole to kiss your ass and then just tell Cas the truth! MacLeod’s not gonna call the cops, and even if he does—“

“—if he does because he’s a royal prick and some judge decides to mess with my school admission or whatever?? Or my folks freak out or—“

He stops himself, runs a hand through the mop on his head.

I think I know about “or”.

“Sammy, you _have_ to tell Cas what happened. He’ll be mad at Gabriel, and maybe me—shit, definitely me ‘cause I should’ve gotten you as soon as I saw Gabe up there—but we’ll deal with it and it’ll be squashed; if you _don’t_ tell him—“

“—then he never has to know that you two could’ve been hurt or arrested or even worse. On my watch.”  The darkness in Sam’s eyes, he’s serious, this is ridiculous!

“DUDE, Cas may joke about you looking after Gabe an’ me but we’re all basically the same age and that’s over eighteen, you can’t think he really means you’re supposed to babysit us!”

 Sam’s listening to me but I am not getting through that stubborn head, I can tell. This is just—I don’t even know what this is, I wish Cas would walk through the door right now before Sam can—

“Promise me you won’t tell Cas, Dean. Or Gabe.”

\--before he can ask me something insane like that. FUCK.

“I don’t lie to Castiel, Sammy. None of us lie to each other, you know that. Even if I wanted to I’d suck at it, it’s _Cas_.” He knows I’m right, there’s something about Cas that makes it a nightmare to tell him anything but the truth; he gets this ‘look’ and it’s like your soul will start crying if you don’t confess. As for Gabe, maybe I should tell him and turn the little pit bull loose on MacLeod *and* his fucking demon cat…meanwhile Sam’s actually pacing:

“You’re right, and I know I shouldn’t ask you; I just—give me a few days to get some things done for MacLeod, and give tonight time to be in the past-tense; that’ll make it easier to get out from under his thumb and make him see reason.”

“MacLeod’s a bully and a dick Sam, he won’t SEE reason—“

“PLEASE Dean, I can’t let him screw with school, if I have to leave--!” Sammy looks like he’s being haunted, why is he so--??

…oh.

That’s what’s got him so spooked. He’s *terrified*.

Of leaving us.

Leaving _Gabriel._

Now I get why he looks so….desperate. So scared. A look I’ve never ever seen on his face before.

I don’t think MacLeod could cause all that…but then how do I know? MacLeod is a piece of shit and he knows other pieces of shit. Who probably owe him favors. That’s how he seems to work, Assholes United in fucking with people…

“Ugh. Fine. I won’t say anything to Gabe. I can’t promise I can keep it from Cas, man, if he asks me—“

“He won’t, I’ll handle it I swear. Just let me deal, it’ll be fine.”

Suuuure it will. This can’t possibly go sideways.

What’s the line from that one song he always plays?

_No one can convince me we aren’t gluttons for our doom…._

Doom. I can feel it and I’d bet my car that Sammy can feel it too.

 

This is the story we’ll tell when our children ask why we have no asses.

&+&+&+&+&

 

I’m sitting in just the moonlight with my knees under my chin on the chest by our window, the one Sam got from his dad’s time in the Marines; he keeps his most precious stuff in it, and we use it like a window-seat to read or whatever. (Well I do, Sam doesn’t really fit but he makes it work when he wants to…)

I know I’m in trouble, and yeah I can probably tell how much. What I did wasn’t _that_ bad, at least I don’t think so, but add the fact that Sam AND Castiel have told me to stop climbing stuff plus Dean coming up after me and—yeah, I’m in trouble.

 I don’t want another spanking today. Castiel wasn’t mean but I definitely know he was there, and then Sam; _why_ I still argue when he says to put down my phone for a nap I’ll never know. I actually don’t disagree with him. I just…sometimes I need to make a fuss. And get called on it. Damned if I know why, I’m just…me.

I hear Sam coming and my whole body jerks, I swear I’m two seconds from jumping out the window and taking off; he’s gonna use ‘Zuki I know he is and I know I deserve it I just don’t want it I don’t—

Sam walks in and comes right for me. Before I can even say anything (or scramble away, because _that_ would be smart) he’s picked me up and—

\--and he’s just hugging me. Tight. Like if he lets go I’ll disappear or something.

“S-Sam…?”

He doesn’t say a thing. Just keeps holding me, my feet aren’t even on the floor--! All I can do is hug back, I don’t know what else to do and my whole self is telling me he needs me to hold onto him.

_What the hell happened??_

After a long time, still not saying anything, Sam deposits me on the bed. He climbs on top and then his head is in my lap, his arms around my middle. My back to the headboard, I don’t ask him to tell me…whatever I’ll find out about later. I just run my hands through his Simba-hair and rub that spot at the back of his neck that helps when he’s tense, and sing little bits of whatever goes through my mind; the stuff I know he likes, that he plays when he’s mellow:

_Sundown you better take care_

_If I find you been creepin' 'round my back stairs_

_Sometimes I think it's a sin_

_When I feel like I'm winnin' when I'm losin' again_

 

I feel his hold around me loosen, his breathing slow and even. Like the master criminal that I am I replace myself with his favorite pillow, he snuffles a little but stays asleep. I slide and slither over to the door, maybe Dean can tell me why I got a Velcro Sad Sam instead of the burning behind I was expecting.

Quietly, slowly, I slip through and pull the bedroom door shut. I seriously wanna know what’s up with my Sam (‘cause it _can’t_ just be what I did, he’s too upset for that), but I’m hoping a good night’s sleep will…fix him or whatever. Hopefully he’ll tell me in the morning, or tell Castiel or DeaAANNNNAHHHH

SOMEBODY’S GOT ME AH SHIT--!!!!!!

No--not just somebody...

From the corner of my left eye, WAY too late to do anything, I saw Dean leaning against the wall by the door with his arms crossed; waiting for me. Before my dim no-sense-of-impending-doom brain knew what he was doing he had me by the back of my shirt and we’re both going forward, now what--??

He’s not—he can’t OH GOD HE IS NO FUCKING WAY--!!!!

“Dean _wait_ the fuck’re you doin’—NOOOONONO YOU’RE NOT GODAMMIT NOOOO--!!!!!”

Dean hauls me like a goddamned bag of laundry to his and Castiel’s room, sits himself down on their bed and I’m trying my damndest to get away from his crazy ass but it’s like I’m hanging from the branch of one strong friggin’ tree. I’m a moron; since Failchester’s not as bignormous as Sam I always forget how much of a man-monster he is in his own right, ‘til we’re goofin’ around and he just decides it’s time to win so he shuts me down one-two-three. Every goddamn time. And somehow I can tell this ain’t goofin’ around---when he shoves me over his lap and throws one heavy-ass leg over mine and rips down my boxers ain’t no question what’s gonna happen aw fuck me--!!!

“Dean for CRYIN’ OUT LOUD you can’t—don’t!!” He hasn’t said a thing and I can’t even lift up, he’s got a pointy-ass elbow stuck in my back and when I try to move it makes the most gnarly feeling UGH….when he finally does talk I swear it’s to himself and not me (!)

“Sammy didn’t and Cas won’t know he should. My job this time.” 

Okay that’s THE scariest fucking thing I think I’ve ever heard and that’s all he says before

**WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP**

**_“AAAHHHAOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWDEEEEAAAHHGEEEZUS”_ **

I don’t know what the FUCK he’s usin’ on me I couldn’t see his other hand but it SUCKS OH IT SUCKS SO HARD and he’s still not talking I dunno if he’s even breathing it’s like he’s a robot or some shit OW OW OH OW it goes on and on and on and I can’t move can’t kick just take it take it take it hands full of blanket twisting twisting oh it _hurts_

He stops. Just like that. Drops my best, biggest blue silicone spatula on the bed, right by my nose. Aw, why did he have to use--making everybody Sunday pancakes is gonna make my ass twitch for a long freakin’ time…

Meanwhile he hasn’t let me go; ugh, I don’t think he’s done. Not surprised, nobody else would be either- that SUCKED but it was, well, quick for what goes on around here. And yep, he _still_ doesn’t say anything, just moves the elbow off my back and that hand is on my ass; not rubbing, just… _waiting._ I HATE the wait, it’s like having a snake ready to bite you any minute and all you can do is… _wait._

I think…maybe this is a test. To see what I’ll do. And yeah, I could rear up and try to fight him if I wanted to. Part of my brain, the extra-dumb part, wants to punch the side of his big block head; who the fuck does he think he IS--?!?

_He’s my friend who I think would do anything for me and always has my back. And I pay him back with constant aggravation and bullshit. Even though he probably could’ve kicked my ass and obviously could’ve *beat* my ass anytime he wanted to. He didn’t because we’re buds, partners in crime..._

_But our crimes never pay. And they’re always my idea._

I still feel like I should put up at least some kinda resistance and not just let *Failchester* spank my ass, we’re EQUALS and I’m not a wusspussy but—but I---

Yeah, I fucking had this coming. I know it and so does Dean.

“I’m tired, Gabriel.”

He speaks! And he’s so friggin’ calm that it’s _creepy_ , I actually wish he was yelling at me--

“Look man, I get you’re pissed at me and I ** _AAAOWOWOWNONONO OK OK OK--!!!”_**

**SMACK**

**SMACK**

**SMACK**

**SMACK**

**SMACK**

OWTCH GEEZUS FINE HIS TIME TO TALK. Dean’s hand is WAY freakin’ harder than I would have ever thought plus I’m already sore, I’m trying not to start bawlin’ like a third grader but if he keeps that up I’m gonna lose the battle--

 “I’m tired of _your_ bullshit gettin’ _me_ in trouble. Or even causin’ me trouble. From now on, if you act like an idiot and the stupid spills on me you’re gonna be right back here. I don’t care if Sam or Cas gets to you first. Whatever’s left of your sorry behind is **_mine._**  We clear??”

I shake my head ‘YES’, not sure if I’m supposed to say anything yet and my ass has no interest in the wrong choice.

“Good.” He lets me up and I jump the hell off his lap like a scalded hamster; with Sam if you stay there too long he thinks you weren’t finished and need more; I do NOT need more, thankyouverymuch. I stand there, not sure what to do next; I wanna rub my ass _so bad_ but I refuse to do it in front of Dean, don’t ask me why; I just can’t…

Dean looks at me for a minute; I end up looking at the floor, my hands are fists. I know I had it coming but the fact that *DEAN*, not Sam or Castiel but frickin’ *FAILCHESTER*, just whaled my tail is making a fire burn in me that I can’t help; Castiel calls it my “big mad” when I get like this and I can never really get out of it by myself…

“C’mere Gabelin.”

Dean leans in and grabs me, not rough but serious, by the wrist. Before I know what he’s doing he’s lying on his bed and he’s pulled me down next to him, turning off the lamp while I’m laying on my front with my boxers still down around my thighs. In the darkness he starts rubbing my…the sting’s going away. So why I’m even closer to crying, I don’t know. I just know being nice to me is a dirty trick, I fold like a cheap pair of socks.

He leaves me on my belly but wraps an arm around me, I end up lying half on top of him. I really do forget how big he actually is; Chesty’s chest feels a mile wide.

He’s still rubbing. Even though it’s dark I hide my face in that chest, it feels, I dunno, safe.

Safe to not be an angry asshole for once.

“I’m sorry.”

 I feel him smile a little. Feel his squeeze.

“I know, you idiot. We’re good. Just chill, when Cas comes home we’ll put you back with Sam; I’d keep you but you know—“

“—I know. He’ll spaz if he wakes up and I’m not there. I don’t wanna make him come find me, not after…not tonight. Dean…what’s wrong with him? Why didn’t he…y’know…?”

Dean murmurs, sighs.

“Not now. Not yet. He’ll be okay, I promise.”

“But—“

“ _No_ , Gabriel. Leave it for now. I know you don’t *really* have to listen to me, but do as I say. Please.”

His hand leaves my rear end and his fingers are running around my back a little; if he does it any lighter it’s torture but right now he’s not trying to tickle me, it’s just firm enough that we both know I’ll be knocked out in a few minutes. I hear myself sigh and mold even closer to him.

I trust him. He loves Sam as much as I do. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it. Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I need to think about how very fucked up it is that everybody in this house gets to spank my ass.

I'll deny it in the daylight, but tonight, in the dark…

I’m just grateful that they do.

 

 

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

I ended up staying far longer at the theater than I’d intended, the scrims needed work and since I was there and had the know-how...I texted my boy but got no reply; I’d wager they went to the festival and he didn’t hear his phone over the fireworks and the roar of the crowds. I don’t worry really, he’s got a good head on his shoulders and he has Sam for those moments when he doesn't...but it will still be good to see all three boys safe and accounted for when I get home.

It’s just after midnight; surprising, when I’m inside, that all of the lights are off. Someone, usually Sam, is still awake at this hour even on a work night; reading or finishing the last of some show or other. I do my best to keep silent as I check into each bedroom, I’ll rest better once I’ve seen who’s where.

Sure enough, my own bed has two occupants; Dean is wrapped around Gabriel and they look absolutely precious. I won’t disturb them, Sam will have room for me and that’s just fine. I slip over to the other door, to look at him and suss out if I’ll need an extra pillow—

A cold stab of worry laces around my heart.

The moonlight shining onto Sam’s face…his brow is deeply furrowed, he somehow looks wan and so troubled…

Something is _wrong_. And it’s not simply that Gabriel is in the other bed.

The way Sam is clutching that pillow for dear life, the stricken look on his face, even in sleep he looks in pain. No, not pain.

Fear.

A nightmare, perhaps?

I’ve no idea. Whatever it is I have to love it away right now.

Removing everything but my boxers I slide into their bed. Take Sam into my arms, he’s somehow tense yet utterly boneless. He may be larger than me, but at times like this it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t wake, but he knows I’ve got him. The oaken arms tighten around me just enough, he snuffles against my chest and I actually rub the lines on his forehead until they’re all gone. Take in his scents, fresh grass and coconut. _Sam_. Sleeping deeply and, I believe, peacefully now.

Hopefully it was simply a matter of worrisome dreams, in need of chasing away. If not, I’ll find out come morning.

Tomorrow is plenty of time to hear about how my boys spent their evening.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, a LOT of you were waiting for a Dean/Gabe spanking. I know about that one you're still waiting for, it's coming I promise!  
> More coming ASAP, feedback and comments welcome ♥
> 
> Sundown, Gordon Lightfoot: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s8rR7E6NfY4
> 
> Prince of Darkness, Indigo Girls: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fY9-98tkfvg


	7. People with Glass Termites Shouldn't Throw Rice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is—he’s freakin’ stalking me, getting closer and his eyes jeezus I can feel my ass getting hotter can he spank with his MIND now--?? He just keeps coming, the five or six steps feel like a mile but now he’s got me up against the screen door. Places his coffee cup on the porch table beside him and…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Entirely too long since the last chapter, I know; life stuffs and several other stories and chapters being worked on! I'd say "coming soon" but that seems to jinx me, lol, so "coming ASAP! 
> 
> As usual, thank you all for your life-giving feedback and comments and patience. Love you guys ♥

First thing my brain registers is that I’m alone in the bed. These days that’s kinda rare; there’s almost always a Warm Somebody.

_My head on his shoulder, breathing in that scent I love so hard; my legs a tangled mess with strong runner’s legs, his hand forever on my backside that he rubs and strokes in his sleep_

_A Paul Bunyan wall-chest against my back, me actually feeling small because he fills the whole world. Anaconda-sized arm around my waist, slips of a soft, silky, hippie mop covering my cheek_

_Or my own arm wrapped around a cozy warm hobbit, sleepy and still for once and snuggled tight into me with my nose deep in his curls_

And a lot of the time it’s a combination, we always manage to fit. Nobody really cares where they end up most nights, as long as no one’s alone.

This morning is different, I jolt awake to the house being dead-quiet but something’s banging around in the distance… Suddenly last night comes flooding back SAMMY WHERE’S GABE WHERE’S CAS—!!!

I take a flying leap outta bed to see where everybody is, the kitchen’s empty but the backdoor’s open. Cas and Gabe are standing side by side on the back porch; they’re both shirtless, Cas in (fucking HOT) black pajama pants and Gabe in Cookie Monster boxers, each with a steaming coffee mug.

They’re standing stone-still, watching…something.

Watching Sam.

Or Sam’s head anyway, bobbing around above the fence while he’s fixing the door on MacLeod’s shed. With looks on their faces there’s no word for but “befuddled”. My brain unfuzzles more and I realize that Cas has NO idea what all happened last night and Gabe….Gabe has to have a clue, but he wouldn’t know about the shed and the Deal with the fucking Devil. So Sam up before daycare so he can work for MacLeod, of all people (or whatever the fuck he is) has got to seem surreal to Cas while Gabe’s mind jumps to all kinds of heinous conclusions, poor kid. Which is why they’re watching Sam like he’s a tap dancing unicorn or something. And Gabe’s face is getting that cranky, scrunched up, “ALL THE MAYHEM NOW” look that’s actually cute as hell as long as it’s not directed at you. Or near you. Or in the same city as you. Ugh, I gotta say something, think fast Winchester--!

“Sam’s over there already? Good for him, I know he wanted to get a jump on things!” Cas and Gabe both turn towards me, Gabe’s about to start squawking but Cas beats him to the punch:

“You know about this, Dean? Why is Sam working for MacLeod? And at this hour??” Right before my eyes Gabe changes his mind about throwing a fit; as he takes a sip from his mug his whole face shimmies like the dissolve in movies when somebody’s dreaming. He’s an impulsive pain in the nostril but he’s not stupid; obviously something went down last night and he should probably hear what I have to say. I owe the little gremlin a cookie for thinking first.

“…Sam didn’t tell you? Huh. He’s doing some stuff around MacLeod’s place, MacLeod asked him last night while you were gone; remember you were gone? Yeah Sam saw his shed door was all messed up because—because---“ Shit I’m choking--!! Gabe sees me drowning and throws his version of a life preserver, god help me ‘cause the damn thing is made of cement.

“—termites! Macleod has a termite thing going on with his shed and he wants Sam to fix the door or something; I forgot he told me last night!”

Termites. Fucking termites. Thanks a lot Gabe, Cas will never buy—

“Termites? Then why is Sam only replacing the glass in the door, the whole shed would need—“

“—they’re Glass Termites. They only eat the glass!”

…whut.

Cas and I both look at Gabe like there’s badgers coming out of his ears. Glass Termites. What the actual fuck.

Cas blinks and takes a long sip of his coffee. He’s smirking a little now. I wanna be further away from him. Like on Neptune maybe.

“Glass Termites. Really.”

“Oh yeah, big ol’ hairy mommas! The guys came and sprayed stuff when you were gone and—“

“Last night. The exterminators came last night.”

Everybody on this porch knows how thick the bullshit is right now but Gabe never goes down without a fight, it’s really one of his best qualities when it’s not getting you murdered along with him…

Cas is just…watching Gabe. The way a hawk watches a baby chipmunk. _“You’re cute but I’m still gonna eat you.”_

Drinking his coffee and watching, his head doing that terrifying-for-some-reason tilt to the left that makes you wanna confess to crimes that happened before you were even born. This is why you don’t lie to Cas…

A drop of sweat runs down Gabe’s cheek. Cas wipes it away with one finger and I swear Gabe’s about to burst into a million pieces of Guilty when— “Why don’t you go and take Sam a coffee before you get ready for work.” Gabe opens his mouth, then shuts it so hard I hear the smack of his lips. He literally *scampers* past Cas and then me; the screen door shuts behind him with a BANG! and then— --and then I’m alone with Cas. And now *I’m* the baby chipmunk. How the FUCK did I get here, all I wanted was to see some goddamn fireworks--!!!

“I—I have a shift this morning, I should get ready too—“ It’s the truth, I work part-time at the movie theater and I was gonna drive Gabe since the candy store is in the same mall. I’m reaching behind me for the door handle and I must have lost some brain cells on that stupid roof because my hand can’t find it while Cas is—he’s freakin’ stalking me, getting closer and his eyes jeezus I can feel my ass getting hotter can he spank with his MIND now--?? He just keeps coming, the five or six steps feel like a mile but now he’s got me up against the screen door. Places his coffee cup on the porch table beside him and… …and just takes my chin in his hand. You can probably hear my pulse from Mordor. Cas meets my eyes with his; he runs fingers through my hair and holds onto a handful, nicely but I’m not going anywhere. I want to say something, I want to tell him the freakin’ TRUTH because it’s Cas and we don’t lie and it’s wrong it’s all wrong—

“…you can’t tell me. Can you.”

It’s not a question. He knows. He always knows because he’s always Cas.

_(And because Blues Clues is harder to see through than Gabe an’ me. Ugh some actor I’m gonna be…)_

I just shake my head, as much as I can anyway. He looks into my eyes even harder, somehow. Kisses me. A melty Cas kiss that makes everything liquid and warm and my heartbeat slows, it’ll be alright…and now he has his softer, Concerni-Cas eyes.

“…does Sam need me yet?”

I—fuck me, what am I supposed to say to that?? No...yes? I don’t friggin’ know!

\--wait, yes I do. Sam said to give him time and he’d handle it. I owe him that time. It’s what I’d want a friend to do, at least at this point. Again, and let the record show that it still feels **wrong**, I shake my head no. Cas is quiet a minute, thinking. He nods a little.

“Then I won’t rescue him. Yet.”

He lets go of my hair, strokes it down the way he likes. I can’t help it, I lean my head into his chest. This is all too much for first thing in the goddamn morning.

He rubs that spot on my back that gets actual purrs outta me before pushing me up again. “I need to head out. Go get ready for work, Punk, and take Gabe with you. I’ll see you later, I’ll be at the theater all day. In case anyone needs to talk. And I’ll definitely be home for dinner.” He turns me and sends me on my way inside with a swat; it’s…ok it’s comforting. And horrific and awful. Because it makes me think of the much, much harder swats you just know are in my near future. Rats.

…no, not rats. Glass Termites. Because my life is a fucking sitcom.

I better go send Sam a “Shit You Need To Know NOW” text.

 

 

“…Glass termites…? Really?”

Sam puts his phone back in his pocket, staring at me like—like Castiel and Dean did, blargh…

“We had to say something! I dunno what you’re doin’ but you and Dean have to be up to—for christ’s sake Sam tell me what’s goin’ on! Why are you over here doin’ work for Scrooge McFuck?! Is he makin’ you—does he know--!!“

Sam drops the tools he’s carrying to grab me by my arm and pull me all the way to the other edge of MacLeod’s fence, the side way away from our place; He knows those neighbors already went to work by now so nobody will hear us, including Ass MacMuffin. As soon as he turns me loose I’m about to start up again but the *look* Sam gives me…well, let’s just say I figure I should lower my voice a little. Y’know, ‘cause it’s early and junk….

“MacLeod does _not_ know what you did, at least I don’t think so, and we’re gonna keep it that way. After I sent you inside last night he showed up and—and we talked about some stuff. I’m doing work for him to help keep things okay between all of us and that’s all you need to know, ok?”

He puts his fist out for me to bump, I smack it away because NOPE.

“No it’s NOT “OK” and I—wait don’tAHHowowOW--!!!

Before I can even take a friggin’ step back Sam’s got me bent over his hip and he’s whacking my ass HARD, three times. Over my jeans at least but still after Dean last night it SUCKS. He sets me back on my feet and leans down with his hands on my shoulders, I can’t look anywhere else and he’s bein’ all OMG SAM in the whole sky…

“Ok??”

He’s waiting, his eyes are like a forest fire; all these shades of green and earth and…flame. I *hate* this, it doesn’t feel right, but for once I use my dumb brain. Whatever the hell is going on, it’s…it’s too big; we can’t fix it now. Plus all I need is a nasty Sam Spankin’ first thing in the morning, makin’ me late for work and itchy-assed all day. Again. Crap.

“…ok.”

That one word is like Smokey the Bear, it puts out the forest fire in Sam’s eyes. He pulls me in for a hug, rubbing my ear (that’s not fair!) and my stinging rear end (that’s sooo not fair!!) for a minute before shoving me, rough but the way he knows I like, toward the gate. “Let Dean take to you work, I have more to do here before I head to Daycare. We’ll talk, I promise. Now are we good?” I bump the fist he holds out with my own; he grabs it and yanks me to him for a quick second hug. “It’s really ok, Spanky. Trust me.”

(Yes that’s what Sam calls me when it’s just us. Yes it’s beyond stupid and yes it turns me into Jello every damn time. And yes, anybody who tells Failchester gets pushed off a fucking cliff. Try me.)

I nod into his chest just when I hear the Impala’s horn. One last squeeze, a kiss that makes me all woozy as usual, and I let him go; let ‘it’ go.

For now.

&+&+&+&+&

 

If you ever wanted to see what our house is like when we’re all bent about something…and kindly go fuck yourself if you did because that’s just mean…this would be a great week to be a fly on our wall.

Everything basically sucks ass. It’s been a week since Sam agreed to *do* crap for McLeod, he’s almost never home and he’s sleeping when he IS here because after little kid day camp all damn day and working for MacLeod before AND after work, he’s about to crack up from exhaustion. I *know* Cas is watching him and I know he doesn’t like what he’s seeing, but he’s letting Sam do Sam. At least for now. Gabe is…ugh, it’s like Jokey Smurf morphed into Grouchy; he’s always sarcastic, sassy even or it wouldn’t be Gabe. But now he’s straight-up surly and curt and, well…disrespectful. I can take it (even though the little thug actually told me to “quit breathing his air” yesterday, what the fuck) but Castiel won’t stand for it much longer. Meaning Gabe *will* be standing. A LOT. Meanwhile Cas is not an idiot and he knows full well we’re keeping something from him; he’s not going all ‘Cas’ and making us tell him, but with Sam looking like the Crypt Keeper whenever we do see him and Gabe about to commit Cas-icide with his attitude…yeah. I gotta talk to Sam ASAP and stop the madness because this whole thing is ridiculous and can NOT go on much longer. We’re all like cartoon dynamite with different lengths of lit fuses. It’s early evening on a work night, Gabe’s on the schedule to make dinner. About a half-hour after he’d usually be waving us away with his big spoon because whatever-is-is smells so amazing I kinda wander into the kitchen with my script in my hand; no Gabe. The back door is open and I can see Gabe just…standing. Gazing over at MacLeod’s house. I don’t see Sam, this time of day apparently he’s inside doing business stuff instead of outside chores. At least when he’s mowing or something Gabe can see him, but now he can’t even text; MacLeod has a ‘rule’ about it, bastard. So Gabe’s just watching, I swear it’s like a little kid waiting for Someone to pick him up from the park, and the sun’s going down and he knows they love him but he’s scared they’ve forgotten him. My chest feels like there’s a twenty pound weight on it. I feel for Gabe, and I miss Sammy too.

“C’mon Gabe, Sam’s ok; I’ll help you make dinner and—“

Gabe jumps a little, he didn’t know I was behind him. Glares at me like everything that’s ever been wrong was my fault while he literally stomps past me. Starts slamming pots and pans around in the kitchen while I slink by; I’ll do something, no idea what but something…to cheer him up later. Right now I have NO intention of being near Angry Gabe with pots and pans at his disposal. I take my script and go into my room, flop down on my bed while Cas is drawing and erasing and being Nice-Safe-Not-Gonna-Throw- A-Saucepan-At-Me Cas. The Dred-brow goes is up just a little, he can hear the one-man-band in the kitchen.

“Everything alright with Gabriel?”

_No no it isn’t he’s a mess and about to ‘splode everywhere_

“…yeah he’s good, just cranky. I’ll watch a movie with him later or someth—”

“DEAN WHERE’S THE GODDAMN ONIONS?!?”

Ugh, friggin’ oops. I was supposed to stop and grab two yellow onions for him and I totally spaced. It wouldn’t be a big deal most days. This ain’t most days.

I haul myself off the bed and head to the kitchen, slipping into my shoes on the way: “Sorry man, I forgot, I can go right now and…”

“NO just fuckin’ FORGET IT LIKE YOU FORGET EVERY FUCKIN’ THING ELSE.”

WHAT.

“S’cuse me?? Dude I said I’ll go now, you don’t have to be a little BITCH about it and—!!!“

And that’s as far as I get because Gabe’s just about to throw an entire big-ass box of rice at my head.

That’s it, I know he’s in a bad way and I know why but this is some bullshit; the only thing worse than this little shmoe climbing every damn thing is him throwing shit when he’s mad.

“Do it. Go on. See what you get.”

His eyes narrow to slits and his lips practically disappear; he’s getting to that Stubborn Gabe Angry that gets him into THE worst trouble.

Like now. Because when his face suddenly changes from KILL to OH SHIT I realize what we both kinda forgot: we’re not home alone. _Oh No..._

“Don’t let me interrupt you boys, this entire display is the best show I’ve seen in quite awhile.”

That quiet-calm voice from behind me. We are so dead.

Gabe sets the rice down, hard enough that a little splash of it overflows the open top. He’s making himself calm down but it’s a white-knuckle thing, he’s still just plain MAD.

Me, on the other hand? I’m fine and I’d really love to be anywhere else on the planet right now. Or, if not all of me, just my ass.

I make myself turn to him. Cas is leaning against the kitchen doorway, hands in his pockets and ankles crossed, his eyes a bit narrowed and lazy. If you didn’t know him you’d think he was cucumber-cool. I know him. And I’m about three seconds from seeing if tears would help at this point. “Cas I—we weren’t really—“

He puts a finger on my lips. Leans past me and levels his sights on Gabe. "Clean up that spilled rice and toss it. NOW young man. Do you want ants? Because that’s how we get ants.”

We could all be falling into a volcano and Cas wouldn’t miss a chance for an Archer reference…

Meanwhile the bottom falls out of my belly when he turns to me:

“Use my phone and order a pizza. I want pineapple this time. Then pick yourself a corner and wait for me.”

Dismissed, I hug my back to the wall as I slide past him; still get a decent swat on my way to our room, the first of many I know goddammit…

Order from Meloni’s down the street, throw in some poppers and wings because by the time we’re…done….and ready to eat I know we’ll all be starving. Pick the corner closest to the door; usually I’d give Gabe all the privacy I could but tonight I’m—I—

I wanna hear, a little. And know inside me that Cas is taking good care of him. Even when he’s a total fuckhead, he’s ours.

Through the closed bedroom door I can’t really hear what’s going on. Cas’ voice, low and soothing to where I can’t make it out, then Gabe’s LOUD and SNARKY words I can’t quite make out but they still make my insides clench, I know they’re not helping his case. Then what you knew was coming; a *panicked*, very clear **_“NONONOCASTIELNOOOO…”_**

And then there’s just the rhythm. I know it well.

S _mack_

_Smack_

_Smack_

_SmackSmackSmackSmackSmackSmackSmackSmackSmack…_.you get the idea. It doesn’t last long, not as long as it could. And has, before. I know from the volume that it wasn’t too bad, the howling from Gabe was way more about him being so, so messed up inside right now. So are the sounds I hear after the spanks have stopped. Muffled, not just because of the door.

I can’t take it, I have to peek.

Through the tiniest of cracks I can just barely see them. Cas is on the sofa, Gabe straddling his lap; even from here I can see his little bare cheeks, all round and rosy. Gabe’s head is buried into Cas’ neck and Cas has a hand on his back and the other in Gabe’s hair, just rocking. Cas has his eyes closed and he’s humming…something. It’s nice. I wonder if that’s what I look like after….after.

I wouldn’t mind if it is.

I ease the door closed before I get caught. Let them have their time.

After a bit, Cas comes in. It’s funny, I didn’t mind being in the corner while he was dealing with Gabe; the cool of the wall against my cheek is kinda nice, and once it was quiet out there I let my thoughts wander where they wanted: to the play and my lines, next semester…

What the fuck imma do if Sammy doesn’t come to his senses soon. You know, life’s little issues.

Without a word, Cas pulls me out of the corner by the back of my shirt and over to our bed, and I’m over his knee before I can blink.

“I’m sorry Cas, I knew he was already in a bad mood and I shouldn’tve—“

A hand starts rubbing my back. “Hush. I’m not upset about that nonsense, yes Gabriel was upset but I can’t imagine you were anticipating that escalation.”

He still gives my ass a pat before pulling down my shorts and boxer-briefs, um….

“If I’m not in trouble then why—what are we doing?”

A hand combs into my hair at the nape and holds, Cas raises my head to his and his voice buzzes warm and, yeah, cozy: “You’ve chosen not to tell me what’s going on with Sam, and I’m allowing it for now as I believe that you must have reason. But whatever it is, the toll it’s taking on you is heavy indeed. You’ve not worn your weary as vividly as Gabriel but I know my boy. What say you atone for a little sin now, and confess when the time is right?”

That’s….I wanna say that doesn’t make any sense--!

But I think about it. Honestly. About how much better I feel with a warm ass and a lighter conscience. Because I can trust Castiel, he really can spank me now and forgive me later.

I sigh, lean my cheek against his. That gives him his answer. Not that it’s ever really up to me, come to think of it…I don’t have time to wonder what if I’d said “no” before

“ _Ow_

_OW_

_OUWTCHCAAASSSOHOWOWOWOW OWWWTCH!!!!”_

He’s only using his hand but that’s like saying Trump is just a little slow, OWTCH. I’m kicking and trying not to struggle to be a good boy but it HURTS and I DON’T LIKE IT and _OWWW_ ….on and on ‘til _oh no oh please not my thighs ple-EASE AHH—_

That’s it, he knows I can’t handle that and now I’m just a lump of crying five year old over his knee. It sucks and it’s horrible and I feel much, much better.

Cas leaves me over his lap for awhile, his hand pushing deep circles in that ‘spot’ on my back that makes my bones all useless. I feel him guiding me up and onto the bed, he reaches under my pillow and then I have my Sassi and I’m the Spanked Little Spoon. His Good Boy. Sigh. He holds me until the pizza man rings. I totally want pizza but I don’t want him to leave me, I’m about to whine when I have an armful of Clarence Bear.

My

_Daddy_

Cas really does ‘get’ me more than I even do sometimes.

I must doze off for awhile before my belly wakes me; the smell of that pizza is just too strong. I find my pajama pants and make my way out to the living room, where Cas is putting in a Blu-Ray; the pizza box on the coffee table next to—

\--next to two sippy cups and a wine glass. I’m very much okay with that.

I sit down on the sofa and snuggle into Cas, who puts an arm around me and holds me tight. Gabe appears at his bedroom door, rubbing his eyes. His Nuk, his curls everywhere and his Yo Gabba Gabba! boxers.

He barely opens his eyes to stumble over to the sofa, where he flops down with his head in my lap. Pops out his Nuk and tucks it somewhere, and takes a long, long drink from one of the sippys with his other hand tangled tightly in the edge of my T-shirt; a habit he started back in the Bunker. 

Gabriel, ladies and gentlemen. 

The cutest thing I’ve seen in forever. Any mad I still had at him slides away, like raindrops when the sun’s back out.

I'm leaning on Cas while Gabe leans on me. It's good.

One of us is missing, we still have the Sam-MacLeod crap to deal with because I just don’t think Sammy’s gonna fix it on his own; he’s too good and MacLeod’s too foul.

But for now…

I grab a slice. Cas turns on “The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou.” We all settle in and just _breathe._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter coming soon, we'll wrap up this MacLeod malarkey and that certain spanking you've all been asking me for IS coming right up!


	8. Lay Your Weary Head To Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a heartbeat he lowers himself down, his chest on the sofa and his long, powerful legs mostly on the floor. My hand goes from a firm push to slow circles, comforting and secure.
> 
> Like a wave of warm epiphany, it washes over me that we’ve never been here before. Oh, certainly a mild swat now and again, purely in fun for one cheeky comment or another; he’s one of Mine.
> 
> But never this. Not ‘til now. This will be new for both of us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. This took way too long. Partly because, well, taking better care of myself means sleeping and hanging with my family more and writing less, and because I really, really wanted to get this right for you guys. Love you all, hope you like it!

I’m still awake, reading by my tiny booklight in 'my' chair in a far corner the living room, when Sam finally slips his surprisingly silent self through the back door.

Snap off my light before he's aware of my presence, the better to observe.

The sway of his shoulders, the momentary but obviously needed lean against the kitchen wall…my cub is exhausted. He seems barely able to keep his head from nodding as he looks toward the refrigerator, opens the door; ponders, debates…and decides to simply head to bed, he’s that tired.

_Sam._

Too tired to eat. It's like the sun being too tired to shine. 

This won’t do. Not one more day.

I’m about to tell him exactly that when he turns a bit and notices Gabriel. Who, wrapped in a light summer 'Transformers' coverlet with really only his darkly golden curls that match his absurdly long lashes visible, brings to mind the Littlest Angel from the holiday story I had as a child. Dean took himself to bed an hour ago but I left Gabriel as he was, deeply asleep and adorable. Closing the refrigerator door, Sam pads over and sighs, longingly. Oblivious to me he gathers the bundle of Gabriel up and into his arms, kissing his cheek and murmuring softly as he takes him to their bed. I can see into their room from my place, I watch as he tucks Gabriel in; expecting him to follow and wrap himself around his sleeping, beloved brat of a boy. Instead he turns to head back my way, finally sees me; our eyes meet as he closes the door behind him.

Until Sam I'd never before seen a lion cub with puppy eyes. I'm unmoved, and from the way he wearily cringes my expression in return must say it all.

“You’re done, Sam. Enough is enough.” Those eyes lock on mine, a panic rising.

“I can’t, Cas, not yet! I know I haven’t been home but I—“ my hand up, curtailing his plea.

“No. I didn’t care for this from the beginning but I wanted to give you time to resolve your own issues, whatever they are; it was obvious that’s what you wanted. But now I’m wondering if I waited too long to step in. I applaud whatever you’ve been trying to accomplish, and at this point I’m not sure I even want to know whatever you three aren’t telling me—“

(his feet are suddenly fascinating as he begins chewing that bottom lip, before forcing himself to stop. Indeed.)

“--but you’ve done more than enough, let Mr. MacLeod go back to paying for his help. You’re absolutely exhausted, Samuel. And Gabriel misses you terribly. So does Dean and so do I. Enough. You’ll sleep in tomorrow and go straight to your daycare center, and after work you’ll tell him you’re done. Am I understood?”

At that his chin quivers mutinously, tired eyes rise to meet mine. “Cas I’m a grown man, you know I can decide for myself if I—If I—“

He falters, knowing full well he was never going to finish that notion.

Grown man, yes. Fully capable adult, absolutely.

But my cub. Mine. To catch if ever he’s falling. And right now he’s on the edge of falling far too hard.

I place a hand on his cheek. Graze my fingers through the fringes on the side of his face. And watch his every argument fall by the wayside. He nods, slowly, his eyes wet and shining as he lowers his head to my shoulder. I hold him for a moment, taking some of his weight and breathing him in, before pushing him toward his room. To his warm bed and his warm Gabriel.

Whatever the hell is going on, and something IS going on dammit, I’ll find out in the morning. When he’s had his first decent rest in far too many days.

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

 I didn’t set my alarm since I only have to work a half day today, not going in ‘til ten this morning. I feel Sam all around me, he’s got me wrapped up in his arms and it’s so nice an’ warm I don’t want to

 

**WAIT SAM SAM IS STILL HERE SAM HE’S IN BED STILL SAM**

 

I try to turn over to face him but he just growls and hugs tighter, my head’s tucked under his and I seriously can’t move much of anything.

“Sam? Aren’t you going over to…you know…” He rubs one tree leg on mine, sighs sleepily.

“Done.”

That’s all he says.

It’s enough. Balloons and skyrockets and everything good just happened with that one word.

 I feel my whole self relax, more than I have in days and days. I have like a zillion questions but now’s not the time.

Now I slide a hand back behind me. Find what I’m looking for.

Squeeze.

And before I can even think Sam’s ON me, he’s rolled me over onto my back and his _kiss_ deep and deeper and oh please I missed it I missed _him_ his hands all over me stroking tickling _claiming_ everything is Sam all Sam all Sam all--

 

 

Curled on top of his god-I-missed-it muscly chest, dozing, a paw in my hair while he’s checking his texts. My Sam is here and nothing else matters. Everything is perfect and—and suddenly the paw is holding that much tighter--

“Huh, Dean texted late last night. What’s this about a box of rice…?”

 

O_O

 

 

After the, um, 'discussion', goldang it...there’s more sexytime. Eventually. Just like eventually I will assassinate Failchester for ratting on me. 

Yeah yeah, I don’t care if I had it coming. Death to Chesty, I shall destroy him!

 

As soon as this goofy-ass smile wears off my face. Shut up. 

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

Even after an *amazing* night's sleep and the best morning I've had in forever _(missed my Spanky more than I can say)_ , I’ve never been this tired in my life. My bones ache, forget about my traps and my quads…I’ve been working my ass off at daycare AND for MacLeod for a long, heinous week and I honestly don’t know how I'd have kept going if Cas hadn't made me quit. I’m friggin’ _wiped_ and I missed my housemates so much it honestly hurt, and one more time; I missed Gabriel. That was bad. His eyes every time I had to go…the worst part was MacLeod expecting me back at his place every night as soon as I got home from work. He’s got me crunching numbers and cataloguing **weird** stuff for his business (really you don't wanna know what's in that man's house, UGH) ‘til so late at night I’m barely in bed before I’m right back at his door. Reading his list. His goddamned list.

Correction; he _had_ me. Not anymore. I’m done.

Because Castiel said so, period.

And screw it, I can’t do it anymore. It’s been time enough, his stupid shed is fixed up better’n when I broke the damn glass and all the other work I’ve done has got to be enough to pacify him.

It’s got to be. 

It’s early evening, after work and the sun’s still mid-summer bright. I head to the office MacLeod uses downtown, his (goddamn fucking) morning note said he’d be there today. Didn't have to see it 'til hours later than I'm usually there; it felt good. I head in, his secretary just smiles; she’s pretty but her smile is creepy as hell, like she has more teeth than she should. Crazy I know, but the shiver that goes up my back…damn. I put that out of my mind and head into his office; he’s on his phone, negotiating something it sounds like. Or refusing to, really. I look around at his weird old books and little locked leather boxes and other stuff while he tells…somebody…that they’re time is nearly up and he’ll be collecting soon. The guy on the other end sounds more than a little bent about it, i think he's crying...?

I find myself feeling even better that I’m about to be done with all of this...whatever this all is. 

“Samuel! What brings you down here, was this morning’s note unclear as to your duties this evening?”  His voice is nice enough but the way he’s looking at me—jesus I want out of this office, off this street--!

_Man up Sam, he’s just a guy and you’re about to be done with him._

“About that, Mr. MacLeod. I know I owed you one, a big one, and I think you’ll agree that the work I’ve done is more than enough that—“ he cuts me off when he points to a little screen on his wall. It blends I so well I’d never have noticed it. The queasy feeling I’ve had since I’ve been here jumps to mach 5.

“Sam, I’m sure you’re aware that I have many valuables, my own and possessions entrusted to me by others, in my home. Many of them are one of a kind, irreplaceable. It’s very important that all of those precious items are kept safe.”

While he’s talking he’s pressing buttons under his desk.

Dean and Gabe are on the screen. On MacLeod’s roof.

We are well and truly fucked.

“As I was saying, the safeguarding of my home is extremely important, so much so that I have no choice but to press charges if I even *think* someone…or someones…might have attempted to remove anything. I’m sure you understand.”

I realize my stupid mouth is hanging open; I shut it hard while I just glare at the bastard, sitting there in his suit and the tie I’d love to choke him with. I’m quiet. If I say anything right now I might ruin everything for everybody and I can’t DO that…

“Settle down, Sam. There will surely come a time when your services are no longer required. I’ll let you know when that will be. Until then…” he takes a dramatic fucking glance at his Rolex…”I suggest you hurry, you know which duties I prefer finished by the time I arrive. Off with you now, there’s a good Gigantor!”

And the dirty sonofabitch goes right back to whatever, leaving me standing there like an asshole--!

My fists are clenched just like my jaw; I’m hot and I’m tired and I’m covered in everything from bubble juice to finger paint and apparently my day is FAR from over. The thought of just beating this pompous little prick to death with his own arm…

“Careful, Samuel.”

He glances up at me, his eyes are narrow and I admit they scare me. Not much but enough.

“Think about how others will have to pay for any unpleasant choices you force me to make.”

God. Fucking. DAMMIT.

I lower my eyes first. Turn and friggin’ leave, his chuckle behind me nearly enough to make me charge right back in and…and…

…and I’m on my way to his place. For another long fucking night. I *WILL* find a way out of this. I will. I have to.

I will.

 

I haven’t been this happy in—I don’t even know how long, at least a week, duh…Sam’s not working for that broken pinwheel we call the Landord anymore and he’s coming home tonight instead of doing…whatever the fuck he was doing over there. He didn’t like me asking and I didn’t push. I know, right? Me, not digging at something ‘til I got my way. This time was different though, Sam…he had enough on his mind already without me being, well, me. I *will* find out, ‘cause I’m not stupid enough to think it was all just to make things right between us and MacFuckhead even if Sam _is_ that kinda good guy.  But when he’s ready to talk about it, I’m not gonna try and make him. Because he won’t ‘til he’s ready, and I kinda don’t need a constant sore ass until he is thanks…

Castiel decided we’re all having dinner, first time in awhile ‘cause reasons, AND we’re having Chinese; awesome and “no fuss no muss” as he says. No arguments from me or Dean, who heard from Cas that Sam's *done* and he's as omg happy as I am; we’ve even been cleaning up ‘round the house while we wait for Sam to get home (said he had something to do on his way) and Castiel to bring the food. Dean and me, I think we’re on the same page; we’re not exactly in trouble, but every brownie point helps. So I mop out the bathroom and he dusts the shit out of the living room, it’s spotless in here. The way Castiel and Sam both like. It feels good. Dean’s got ‘his’ music on, something about Old Time Rock n Roll, I like it; the ‘right’ house vibe is back. Dunno why Coconut Dream air freshener helps, it just does, we spray that shit everywhere…

 

The back door bangs; Sam’s home (UGH ALL THE YAYS) and I’m about to go meld to his side and call it a hug no matter how sandy and fingerpainty he is when—

\--something’s not right. He’s not right. Sam looks like Cinderella right after the stepbitches rip off her nice dress the mice made. I freeze, I get the feeling if I try to hug him right now he’ll break into a bunch of Sam bits. Before I can figure out what to do  Dean’s right behind me.

“…let me guess. MacSkunkass won’t let you quit.”

"WAIT WHAT--? Sam...?" The hell, what does Dean mean won't "let"...? 

Sam just looks all bleary at me, wicked tired and…and _defeated_ , it makes my chest freakin’ hurt dammit…and runs a big hand through his hair.

“…not now Dean, ok? I gotta grab something t’ eat and change before I—“

 

“NOT HAPPENING SAMMY. And we’re fucking talking about it NOW, ‘cause you’re _not_ goin’ back over there if I have to hold your big ass down ‘til Cas can finally talk some sense into you!” Dean can be a big kid…like me honestly…but to tell the truth he can be scary as shit when he wants to be and this is one of those times; Sam actually blinks and for a minute his face is this weird combo of surprise and—respect, I think…?...before he darts his eyes at me; glares at Dean and mumbles

“Not in front of—not now!”

 and grabs me by the hand while he starts toward our room. "C'mon Gabe, hang out for a little bit while Dean and I--"

“Oh, you mean you still don’t want Gabe to know you’re fucking slaving for MacLeod so he doesn’t call the cops about his stupid shed? The shed that got mangled ‘cause of the fuckin’ ladder? THE LADDER THAT WAS OUT BECAUSE HE WENT UP ON MACLEOD’S GODDAMNED ROOF?!? Is all that bullshit still a SECRET???”

Everything stops. The air stops moving. If we had fish they’d stop swimming.

No. NonononoNO. I knew something was extra wrong but--oh HELL NO

I don’t know I’m crying ‘til I feel a drop fall off my chin. Meanwhile. i yank away from my Sam; I’m gonna go kick my foot so far up MacLeod’s ass everything he eats for a month will taste of Gabriel.

I make it to the front door but next thing I know Sam has me around the middle with his back against the door, my freakin’ feet aren’t even on the ground; dating (or whatever it is we do) a gorilla has its drawbacks.  

(Ok yeah I like when Sam throws me around, or Dean if I’m telling the truth, but not NOW goddammit!!!)

I start spazzing and fighting him, I don’t even care what happens; I am going to MacLeod’s and I am going to dissolve him like in the Wizard of Oz and make everything better. ‘Cause everything is better without fucking MacLeod.

Sam and Dean are both talking at me, it’s a mess words I don't care about:

“Rein it in Gabriel, this isn’t your fault and—“

“I didn’t mean it like that Gabe, MacLeod’s taking advantage and it ain’t right—“

I hear them, I do, but all I know is my Sam’s been working himself to death for that asshole _and it’s because of me_. I can’t stop crying and I can’t talk and Sam won’t FUCKING let me go and now Dean’s trying to—what *is* Dean trying to do-?

He’s trying to move Sam from in front of the door. ‘Cause that’s a thing that can happen.

“Keep him here Sammy, I’m going to MacLeod’s myself. If you don’t wanna just tell Cas and deal with this that way I can at least tell Shithead I’ll work for him for awhile, give you a break and—“

I feel Sam stand all the way up behind me, he’s like eight feet tall when he’s this outraged and this will not end well for anybody—

“Are you NUTS? NO FRIGGIN’ WAY Dean, I found out today he’s got video of you two on his roof; he owns our asses, don’t give him any new ideas; he can fuck us over all by himself!”

Dean stops trying to move Sam and just gapes at him. “He WHAT?? Oh HELL NO, We can’t live life scared of—fuck it, I’m goin’ over there and getting those tapes and smashing his face off his head if I have to; this is all—FUCK THAT--!!!”

I’m struggling to get loose from Sam while he’s got his back against the door so Dean can’t get out, Dean tries to shove Sam away from the door (A Uruk-Hai tryin’ to move a cave troll is _amazing_ if you’re not in the middle of it) and Sam smushes Dean’s entire face with one huge hand like the thing in ALIENS to push him away; this is some Three Stooges bullshit right here and I’m waiting for Dean to remember we have a--

Dean says something all mushed like “FINE STAY THERE,” and yup there he goes for the back door. ‘Cause we, y’know, have one. Without a Samasaur guarding it.

No, there’s no Sam at the back door.

There’s just a Castiel.

I get joggled along with Sam after Dean so we’re right behind him.

In the open doorway is DOOM. With two big bags of Chinese food and the scariest look on his face I have ever seen.

He, um, I think he heard everything. This ain’t gonna be good for nobody.

For a minute, just a minute, it’s totally quiet; none of us know what to say. At least I knew a little but I don’t think Castiel knew ANY of…I don’t wanna get away from my Sam anymore, I wanna hide inside his shirt. Not that he’d ever save me from Castiel but right now it’s a really nice thought…

My one shoe falls off and clatters to the floor; the noise kinda shakes all three of us and we ALL start trying to explain at once:

“Now Cas it’s not as bad as it sounds—“

“I’m sorry Castiel I didn’t know they didn’t tell me all of—“

“Let me explain Cas I can handle it I just need to go and—“

 **“ENOUGH.”** geezus he didn’t even really raise his voice but I swear the whole house shook and we all three clam up. Moses must have felt like this when that bush started yammering at him--!

Castiel hands the bags to Dean, who’s closest and doesn’t have his arms full of, well, me.

“Unload these and set the table. Then sit at the table and wait for me. I’m going to go and speak with Mr. MacLeod and then we’re having our dinner.”

We all FREAK at that, he can’t just…WHAT—

Just as we’re all about to start up again Dean sets down the bags and actually puts himself between Castiel and the door. ‘Cause that’s been working really well for people around here.

“No way Cas, MacHole’s been a complete dick about everything and you don’t want to go over there alone and no way I’m letting you so I’m _AAUGHNONOWAIT--!!!”_

That? That was the sound of Castiel taking Dean by the collar and pulling him just outside the back door, which he closes behind them. I notice my mouth is open and I *know* Sam’s is too, his hold on me loosens just enough that my feet are on the floor again; we’ve nearly forgotten about each other while we’re listening to

**_“OWTCHOOHFINEOKYESSIROWWW”_ **

Before the door opens again, just Dean this time. Uh, yeah.

Dean’s face is candy-pink and he doesn’t actually look at us when he mumbles that “we need to get dinner on the table, Cas will be right back.”

Sam looks down at me just as I look up at him.

We look at Dean.

Then all three of us scramble out the front door. Yeah we’re gonna get in (more) trouble but hell, you can't fall off the floor; we gotta see this…

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

I gotta see this. Cas is going to talk to MacLousy about this whole pile o’ crap no way am I missing that, if anybody can work their mojo on that creep it’s Cas. Which is why we should have just TOLD him when all this started but hey what do I know, right???UGH DAMMIT...

It must look ridiculous, Sam’s head over mine over Gabe’s peering around the front doorjam like eavesdroppers in a cartoon. If Cas sees us we’re dead, but since we probably can’t get any deader we may as well watch this show. 

Cas knocks and waits a tick before the door opens. We can’t hear _all_ of it, but:

_“Mr. MacLeod, how are you? Good to—“ MacLoathe cuts Cas right off:_

_“Look Castiel, I’m sure you’ve….plead his case….between SAM and MYSELF thank you!!!"_

Sam’s hand on my shoulder tightens; I know he’s making himself obey Cas and not go barreling over there, consequences  be damned. I rub that hand (to relax him and so maybe he’ll loosen up and the feeling in my shoulder will come back, owtch!) while I feel Gabe starting to huff; yeah he’s gettin' fired up too; I should be just as agitated but….something’s telling me Cas will be able to handle this, calmly and Cas-like and--

I barely even see Cas move.

We hear

_“Now MacLeod this is…agree the boys crossed the line but surely we can—“_

_“...MINE until I say otherwise…happy to involve the authorities if….trot along back to your little Degenerates and send Samuel here GOOD DAY TO YOU.”_

And even from here I catch the Dred-Brow on its rise. Oh. Oh no. 

One minute Cas is just standing there.

The next there’s a blur and a *nasty* THUD. And one of the most satisfying squawks I’ve ever heard in my life--!!!

And MacLeod’s on the floor in his doorway, presumably holding his jaw while Cas shakes out his hand. It's fucking glorious.

I’ve never seen anything so awesome. Or, yeah…so fucking _hot…_ in my life.

_My Daddy is not to be fucked with; yeah I said it._

Cas is standing over…hell all we can see are MacLeod’s legs…

“ _Stay away from my boys._ Try and evict us if you must. And by all means call the ‘authorities’ if you will, your lawyer and mine can have a lovely chat about blackmail among other things. **_But you WILL stay away from my boys unless you’d care to see me truly angry_**. I doubt that you do.”

And with that he turns on his heel and heads back towards us. I don’t see if MacLeod even got up, stunned as we were as soon as Cas is on his way we had enough sense to hustle our asses back inside.

We’re all in the kitchen, but Cas knows good and well we weren’t where we were supposed to be; I’d bet good money it’s just added to the List you just know he’s keeping.

I don’t care. After what I just saw he can do anything he wants with me. And I think I really do mean _*anything*._

Shrugging out of his trench, he hands it to Gabe to hang up and crooks a finger at Sam, who places himself before Cas like a man waiting at the guillotine.

Cas just puts a hand on the back of Sam’s neck and rubs. Looks into Sam’s eyes, shaking his head. Sighs.

“Tomorrow. Tomorrow we talk. Hear me?”

Sam nods, his own eyes about to get leaky, when Cas rubs his neck a little more and thumps his chest before letting him go.

Meanwhile he still looks like one of those Warrior Angels you see in really old paintings; I don’t even know exactly what I’m expecting, is he gonna line us all up and…? I don’t _think_ so, but this has been---we—

We’re all guilty of _something._ Even Sam. Especially Sam. I don’t wanna be Sam.

I mean, Sammy’s not like Gabe an’ me, he’s way more like Cas; usually he’s a Grownup and we all know it. This though…this was big. And we all know that too. 

“Sit. Down.”

We all kinda glance at each other and do as Cas says, sliding into our chairs at the table. Cas sits himself down and silently starts to dish out House Special fried rice.

I can’t take it. I pull his hand, the one with the big spoon, to me. Kiss the knuckles that just knocked down the Resident Evil next door. The twin icebergs-on-fire he calls eyes right now start melting, his shoulders lower from where they were up by his ears.

I stand. Take the serving spoon from him, he lets me. Gabe, opposite Cas and not really able to look at him before, follows my lead. Takes up another serving ladle-thing and starts filling Sam’s plate.

Tonight we’re serving them. It feels really, really right.

Slowly, conversation starts. It’s the first time in way too long we’ve all been at the table together. Cas and I talk about work and the play, Gabe tells about mishaps that happen at the candy store…it’s awesome. Sam’s quiet at first, but Cas asks him about his daycare kids; Sam could be skydiving and he’d still talk your ear off about his kids.

We’re all just….happy.

Soon enough, Between Sam and me the whole story tumbles out.

Cas is...calm. Thinking.

Gabe's pensive and it's obvious he's hurt that we didn't tell him the whole thing, but he seems to get that we didn't exactly have a plan for this kinda thing. He's mad but he'll be okay. Somehow he ends up in Sam's lap, and the more we all talk the better he seems to feel. 

Nobody’s forgotten that the cops could bang on our door any minute, we just, we don’t care tonight.

Whatever happens we’ll deal with it. All of us. No more secrets and fibs and—nunna that.

Later I text with Garth about all of it. Garth has plenty to say...

For the first time in days I honestly feel like it’ll be alright.

 

 

Last night was _rough_ , Cas sent everyone to bed pretty early for a Friday night. Next day only I have to work, and not 'til much later at the movie theater. Gabe's making pancakes (I love that I can make him blush talking about how much I like that blue spatula, heh) And we're all..yeah we're waiting for something to happen. But we're still ok. 

And as the morning goes by, quietly, we all start to relax. Maybe it really IS over. Cas sends Sam out for more milk (there's never enough with four guys in the house) and just as I'm about to go grab a shower--

Pounding on the front door. We all know who it is. 

Here we go. 

I’m about to storm over when Cas calls my name; he wants to get it. Fine, but I’m right behind him—

“Go and sit next next to Gabriel, Dean. Let me.”

Ugh, fine; I throw myself on the sofa next to Gabe, who’s perched on the arm with a bag of Carmel corn because Gabe. 

Cas opens the door to a fucking FURIOUS MacLeod. I expect cops to be with him, or a lawyer or something, but nope it’s just him. Hmm…

“GIVE ME MY DAMNED CAT!!!!”

Cas is stunned by that for a tick, whatever he was expecting MacLoudass to say that definitely wasn’t it.

“Why on Earth would we have--?” Cas stops and slowly turned towards Gabe, Dred Brow on its way right up. Gabe’s perched on the sofa and continues munching on his bag of caramel corn, his “who me?” face so totally innocent that Cas figures something has GOT to be up.

And whatever it is, the story will be amazing. Later.

For now…

“I’m sorry but we haven’t seen…Crowley, is it?....and now if you’ll excuse us—“ Cas goes to shut the door but MacLeod ain’t havin’ it, he tries to barge in but Cas ain’t havin’ *that*; he puts an arm across the doorway and shit’s about to get REAL. AGAIN.  MacLeod points a chubby, bony finger (I don’t know how it’s both it just is) at Gabe and looks five seconds from a heart attack. With no heart but still.

**_“I know that little misbegotten worm has done something with my cat and I want him back RIGHT NOW.”_ **

Gabe gasps and puts a hand on his chest like he’s all offended, I may have to swallow my own face to not bust out laughing. Meanwhile MacLeod looks….I dunno, tired…? Weaker, pale even for him; like his battery’s draining. My first thought is that he’s coming down with something, the flu or whatever.

_My next thought is that I don’t wanna know just why he needs that spooky-ass cat so bad. I really fucking don’t._

Meanwhile just when Cas looks ready to give MacLeod a matching bruise to go with the ( _freakin’ spectacular_ ) one from last night, Gabe pipes up:

“You know what, Mr. Fergus? I bet Crowley _hates_ how much racket Sam makes when he’s at your house doing all that work; betcha now that Sam’s TOTALLY DONE WORKING FOR YOU the cat’ll turn right up!”

The shit-eating grin on Gabe’s face is so friggin’ perfect I almost can’t take it. Seriously I grab a handful of his caramel corn and stuff it in my face so I don’t collapse laughing.

Cas still doesn’t know exactly what’s up but I can tell he wishes he had some caramel corn--!  He’s not smiling, but the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes are in full effect; if you know him you know he’s cracking up inside and it may spill out any second. It’s just…excellent.  

MacLeod is *sputtering* at the door; he was all pale but now he looks like somebody put a giant tomato on top of a suit, his face is that red--! I half think he’s about to call all the demons in Hell, or flying monkeys or _something,_ to destroy us and anybody who looks like us; honestly his head could explode any minute and it’s _awesome._

“Sam’s all done, right Mr. MacLeod?” Gabe in Imp Mode is _so_ not to be fucked with; sitting there with that Evil Angel face I swear he’s every bit as scary as MacLeod.

 _“Yes, Sam’s all done, right Mr. MacLeod?”_ Cas repeats, politely; the steel under the non-question could knock Thor on his ass.

“Furthermore, I know we haven’t really gotten along all summer, but why don’t we put that behind us and _call. Everything. **Even**._ We’ll live out the rest of the summer in good stead with one another. Agreed?”

Gabe and I basically stop breathing while MacLeod and Cas are having an epic Old West Showdown with just their eyes. Icy Adamantium Blue is clashing with—black? Red? I don’t fuckin’ know, what color is Evil Clown Blood? ‘Cause that’s what’s staring daggers back at Cas…

And like that, it breaks. MacLeod takes out a black hanky from somewhere in his suitcoat and wipes his face.

“Indeed”, he gruffs, obviously _done_ with all of us. “I’ve business to attend to overseas anyway. Provided that my cat is in my possession by noon tomorrow we’ll consider ourselves… _friends."_

He says '"friends" the way a non-reptile would say "intestinal flu" but whatever he's leaving...

_“Gabriel.”_

Gabe perks at him, questioning.

“Well played.” He smiles and I swear one of the plants dies. 

And he’s gone.

And I really think…yeah, my gut’s telling me it’s okay.

It’s _over_.  Thank Fucking God.

Cas is still at the closed door, his hand on the knob. Turns and looks at Gabe and me, totally in thought. That doesn’t always work out well for us and we know he’s gotta have QUESTIONS and Gabe actually scoots a little closer to me—

“I want ice cream. Why don’t you two walk down to the shop.”

Wait whut.

“I’m sure at least one of you has much to tell me. Sometime. Sometime soon.” Dred-brow goes up, just enough to disrupt both our pulses for a minute, before it goes right back down (!).

“For now, it’s been a long week and I want ice cream. Later. First you two are going to the library." At that we both just look at him like he's grown another nose or wings or something--

" I want a report of, oh, lets say ten pages. All about the Glass Termite."  

Oh my fucking god. He's not serious. He IS serious--!

"Go away and write it for me, work together. It had better be fascinating. And I don't want  to see a hair of your heads back here without that paper. And enough ice cream for all of us. GO." 

And with that decree he kisses me and ruffles Gabe's hair then pushes us both right the hell out the front door. Actually throws our shoes at us and locks the door for cryin' out loud--!

That’s when Gabe suddenly freaks the fuck out. Grabs his sandals from the lawn and starts shoving one on while he careens toward the street, I can barely see him he’s darting around so fast; poor kid’s about to fly apart…what the hell??

 _“Think of what to tell Cas, we gotta find that stupid cat_! I was fulla shit and MacDickness fell for it, I dunno where the mangy thing is and if we don’t--!!!!”

Oh. Right.

Never actually told him. Heh.

“Relax. It’s all good.”

He stops being a blur and actually comes into focus. Stares at me with giant eyes, like he’s never seen me before, while things fall into place in his head.

“Dean, what did you…?”

“Who me? *I* didn’t do anything. The cat’s fine and MacLeod’ll get him back that way. Now stop asking questions and let’s go.”

Still looking at me like I’m a new species of Dean, one eye narrows for a moment; he knows I’d never do anything to hurt even the most asshole of animals…he trusts me. And whatever’s going on, it muthafraggin’ _worked._

So for once in his nosy, “gotta know All The Things!” little life, he decides to Let That Shit Go.  

Puts his other sandal on and starts past me; stops and hugs me tight. Huffs out a huge sigh, really deeply.

My chin on his head, I hug right back. Hard.

Cas is not wrong. It’s been a long, long friggin’ week.

"Hey Failchester," muffled from my front, "we should get a book on anti-gravity."

"Huh? Why?"

"So it'll be impossible to put down!"

Oh my friggin' god. At least he's feeling better.

Let’s go write a kick-ass report about an imaginary bug. Then have some goddamn Rocky Road.

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

Working on a sketch in the bedroom, I heard our Sam return from the store with the milk but I've yet to see him. 

Down in the basement I find him, earbuds in, lying face up on the workout bench we all use though he and Dean definitely give it the most time. Watch him for a moment, his massive arms pumping and straining. I’ve no idea how heavy he’s loaded that bar but it’s a heavy load indeed.

Like the one he’s had on his shoulders for far too long.

I flick the light on and off again rather than just approaching him, I know that when I’m that far into my own self during a workout it’s best not to startle me…Sam nods in my direction and sets the bar back on its holsters; pulls out his buds, I can hear “Bodies” before he taps off the iPod on his arm.

He knows why I’m here. It’s why his eyes can’t quite meet my own.

I hold out a towel, he’s dripping with sweat. Glancing at it, I expect him to take it from me and wipe himself down.

Yet I’m not surprised, not really, when he instead leans into me, his warm cheek against me as he simply sighs. I use the towel to wipe his brow, his shoulders and forehead. Squeezing him to me with my other arm.

We stay that way for a moment, just…being.

I tug his hair, gently. “I’ve sent Pixie and Dixie elsewhere. Go and shower. Meet me back here. Twenty minutes. Go.” He nods into me and, still not ready to meet my gaze, takes himself to do as I’ve said. Twenty minutes will give him enough time to do whatever-it-is he does to that hair, get comfortable…

…and prepare himself for what we both know comes next.

 

 My dog-eared copy of ‘The Infinite Jest’ in hand, I’m lounging on the rather dilapidated but sinfully comfortable oversized old sofa in the basement; another Craigslist find for which I’m eternally grateful. It serves many a purpose, from naps in the coolness of the below-ground air to a fine place to view a film via laptop.

And other fine uses involving my lap. Today is such a time.

At just under nineteen minutes Sam reappears, the scent of—tea tree?—and citrus along with him. Fresh and refreshed, in long lightweight pajama bottoms and a simple white t-shirt.

Instead of sitting up, I simply hold out a hand to him. Wary, not of me but of the unknown, he closes the distance and places his hand in ( _around, my word this boy’s hands are enormous)_ mine. Tuck my book beneath the cushions as I draw him down to kneeling, his top half across my lap and my hands buried in his still-damp locks. We often find ourselves this way, when we need to talk. While it’s never something we discuss outright, there is indeed a hierarchy of sorts within our little unit/pack/whatever we are. Sam is, or at the very least he will be, every inch the Top that I am. For now though, he’s very much still learning; the times when he feels unsure or in need of correction he does best when he can curl into me and speak from the safety of my arms ‘round him. Given his size, we’ve found that gathered half into into my lap this way works best. He thrives. As do I.

He sighs, facing away from me, pensive yet peaceful. He’s troubled but he knows that finally, _finally,_ the demons are going to be chased away.

“Why, Sam? Why on Earth didn’t you just come to me?”

His blows a chestful of air, obviously as mystified at himself as I am. At least on the surface.

“I dunno, Cas. It all just happened so goddamned _fast._ MacLeod, he—he got to me, ok? I totally thought that if he just called some asshole cronies of his they could make everything terrible, y’know? Make us have to go to court or make me have to leave school or—or something else horrible to Dean and Gabe. Plus I—I didn’t want you—“

He stops. I feel him closing off, oh so reluctant to cross that next hurdle of truth.

“Go on, Sam,” quietly, my voice low and constant. “Tell me. We’ll make it right I promise you.”

I feel him rubbing the hem of my pant leg, soothing himself. Working up the courage to tell me…what I’m betting I already know but he needs to say out loud.

 A deep breath, and In what I believe to be the smallest voice he’s capable of,

“I didn't want to tell you I messed up. You were gone and I was de-facto in charge, Cas. And I was asleep. Those two could’ve been hurt or worse and I was _asleep_ —“ I can feel his breathing ratcheting up, he’s working himself over for the behavior of our respective brats and it’s not acceptable. A handful of his hair allows me to guide his eyes up to mine.

“Thing One and Thing Two deciding to be hooligans and getting themselves up to mischief is never your fault. _Never, Sam.”_

“I hear you, you’re right but--”

 _“_ **No** _._ Their behavior, and any consequences, is on them. You’re all the same age…at least chronologically—“

Even through his upset he has to snort at that…

“—and you are not responsible for nonsense they get up to when it had nothing to do with you.” I raise his chin, meeting his eyes even deeper.

“Did you truly believe I expected you to carry so heavy a burden? Is that the impression I gave you?”

Hazel mists over to mocha shades, his focus blurs as he finds his voice. If you know him well, as I do, you can hear the slightest tremble. I let him lower his head a bit, let him find his center.

“N-no, when I think about it you really didn’t…just didn’t want to let you down. Worry you. You have so much to do with the play and and you still do…everything…for us, _you show me_ _everything and it’s all amazing and if you didn’t trust me anymore or if I couldn’t stay anymore and—and I--”_

Strong shoulders tightening, struggling not to shake, quiet heaving as he battles himself to stay together, to hold it all in.

I’ll not have it. He needs release.

I’m stronger than the monsters beneath his bed. We’ll look at them together and we’ll take them apart.

Drawing him close, I brush back the silken strands to leave a kiss on his deeply furrowed brow.

And grasping him by the arms I swiftly glide him up and over my lap, lowering his pajama bottoms to his knees as I do. Instinctively he rears up, a sound that can only be called a whine of uncertainty slipping past before he can stop it. My hand on the small of his back, solid and unmoving, yields the stillness he knows full well I’m expecting. That he would expect.

After a heartbeat he lowers himself down, his chest on the sofa and his long, powerful legs mostly on the floor. My hand goes from a firm push to slow circles, comforting and secure.

Like a wave of warm epiphany, it washes over me that we’ve never been here before. Oh, certainly a mild swat now and again, purely in fun for one cheeky comment or another; he’s one of _Mine._

But never this. Not ‘til now. This will be new for both of us.

Although I must say, it doesn’t feel that way. In fact, the solid abundance of Sam, safe and loved over my knee, feels as much at home as either of the other two.

I still wonder, for the briefest of moments, if he’ll balk. Protest.

Remind me, as I just reminded him, of his age and the title of “adult” that comes with it.

It’s no surprise to either of us when he instead simply…settles in. The barest of shivers; he knows there’s no shame in where he is and what he needs, but when one so good who gives and gives can finally receive…allowing oneself that peace can be overwhelming.

Slowly I glide my hand from his back to his bottom, continuing to circle and pet. Feel him draw a breath…then let it go with a sniffly shudder that runs all through him.

I truly believe that from the moment he chose to say “yes” to MacLeod he knew that this is where the story would end. Deep down, so deep that were he to deny it I doubt I would count it as a lie.

“Even shoulders as strong as yours can only handle so much weight, Little Lion Man. Let’s see if we can’t lighten some of that load.”

And that’s all the warning he has before

**CRACK**

**WHAP**

**SMACK**

**SMAP**

_"AAAHH CAS!!!!"_

The first spanks are never easy, but for one so unused to them it's a truly breathtaking experience. Sam twists a bit, trying to behave but simply overcome by the unfamiliar bite of my hand on the virgin skin of his unseasoned bottom. With either of our brats I'd be using my hairbrush or even the Loopy Johnny for such offenses, but Sam is so unused to discipline that my hand is more than sufficient.

This time.   

“You don’t decide what I should or shouldn’t hear, Samuel. It isn’t up to you. When there’s a problem you will tell me and we’ll deal with it together. That’s what we do. Am I understood?”

_"YES YOU ARE I UNDERSTAND I’M SORRY CAS I—"_

**SMACK**

**SMACK**

  **WHACK**

**SMACK**

  **WHAP**

  **CRACK**

_"N AAAHHHH AHHHHOWOWCHPLEASE"_

"Not only did you keep the situation from me, you drew Dean and Gabriel in as well. Was

**SMACK**

"That”

**SMACK**

"Appropriate?"

_“NO NO IT WASN’T SORRY CAS I’M SORRY SO SORR--AHH!!!—“_

  **SWAP**

**SMACK**

**WHACK**

**SMACK**

**WHACK**

**SMACK**

**WHAP**

**CRACK**

"You will *not* keep such troubles to yourself." 

  **SMACK** __**"** _YESSIR PLEA--"_

_**SMAP  
** _

_**WHACK** _

_**SHMACK WH **AP CRACK SMACK SMACK WHAP**** _

 "And young man If you EVER ask Dean or Gabriel to keep such things from me again—“ I tip my knee, just enough to elongate that tender terrain where his bottom meets his legs; the effect is as devastating as i expect.

 " _ **AAAHHNAAHHH NOOO NEVER I PUH-PUROMIIISSSE CAS PLEEAA—“**_ Soreand sobbing, the crimson bottom before me absolutely glowing, Sam is boneless. Given over to me, wholly and completely. Exhausted, utterly. And he knows he's forgiven. Not that he wasn't before, but with this penance his step, and his heart, will be that much lighter. We're done. Leaving his flaming backside to the coolness of the air, I return to rubbing his back, letting him weep out the rest of his guilt and misery. It will wash away, and we'll move on. 

As it should be. 

 

 

“It was never, ever my intent to make you truly responsible for those two…scalawags. Yes, they’re our brats to love and to care for, but you and I both know that they make their own decisions. And they can suffer the consequences for wrong decisions; that is NOT a burden for you to bear. Am I understood?”

Nodding, my nose stuffy and runny like a five year old. I feel like a five year old. Who just got spanked for, ugh, for being _naughty._

I feel better than I have since this whole thing started. I was stupid and I paid for it. Finally. 

I know that Cas could have been much harder on me than he was. I'll be feeling it for days and it was just his hand. 

I know, and he knows, it was enough. When the big black bubble of SUCK inside me finally pops and I can’t stop crying, it’s because I know, I really _know,_ that it’s all okay.  For the first time in forever I don’t have to be afraid. I never had to be. Cas wouldn't have let all the possible crap I was afraid of happen, not really. He's _Cas._

He loves me. He loves us all. 

He’s rubbing my back, no wonder Dean and Gabriel seem to just _vibrate_ when we do this for them after…afterwards. I feel like I'm on Tom and Jerry or something, like there's nothing to me and I could slide in a puddle down to the rug.

Instead he maneuvers us so we're both on the big sofa, this thing is long enough that there's actually room for my legs (!) Holds me to him, humming something soft.

I'm never on this side of...this.

I like it. In no hurry to repeat it...but I like it. 

I’m not really crying anymore, just…it’s like all the craziness I’ve had inside me is leaking from my eyes.

And my nose. I sniffle one too many times and Cas lifts my chin; brushes my hair from my face, then uses a tissue he produced from somewhere to wipe my eyes and nose. I try to take the tissue from him so I can do it myself and get my hand lightly smacked for my trouble. For some reason that makes me feel… _sigh._

Without even thinking about it I press even closer into his side, I know I’ve got the Puppy Dog Sam look on my face but right now I can’t help it, it’s…

It’s been a long, long week. Feels like a year. 

We stay like that for awhile, his fingers combing through my hair. All I remember before I'm out is that I wanna know that song he's still humming to me. 

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

“Never thought I’d ever meet a critter I din’t like, but that hellspawn cat ain’t from this Earth, Dean! Damn thang musta bit me once for every tooth in its fool head! An’ I swear on my momma’s life he _likes_ the taste o’ blood, he gets off on it or sumthin’…” Garth scowls at the tan pet carrier in the corner of his living room, where two red eyes are glowing at us like--like cursed rubies or something. I don’t blame him for wanting Crowley the hell out of his apartment and out of his life, I live next door and see him all the time and I never did get used to his creepy little ass…

“Just wait till late, and let him out a street or two up from mine; he knows how to get home, and nothing will hurt him; I don’t think anything _can_ hurt him, except maybe holy water!” We both kinda laugh….but not really. It feels like it might be frickin’ true.

“I can’t say thanks enough man, we really were in a tight spot.” Garth gives me an arm punch and a grin.

No worries, he weren't even hard to catch with the right bait!'"

Not gonna ask, Don't wanna know. Ick.

"'Sides, anything I can do to help Sam or Gabe or any a’ you guys is a pleasure.” Garth's good people. Weird people, but good people. 

“Let me pay for the damages at least?” Crowley apparently did not care for being here and well, items were broken. And shredded. And territory was definitely marked. Can pee be evil? I don’t wanna know.

“Don’ worry none, nuthin’ I can’t replace cheap and easy. And hell, my gal and I did enough that we was never gonna see that deposit agin’ no ways…” he grins like he’s not remotely sorry about that. Good for him, says I.

At that Becky walks through from the patio on her way to the bedroom, yes *that* Becky; gotta say she looks cute as hell in a bright blue bikini top and cut-offs. And yeah, she totally grew out her hair; no sign of her cat tribute on the back of her head. I still can’t believe Garth and Becky are a Thing, but damned if they don’t fit like gloves. I never saw either of them this happy before, and Becky…

Let’s just say Garth’s good for her like Cas is good for me and Sam’s really, really good for Gabe. She gives me a nice smile and a little wave as she passes between Garth and me; she kisses Garth on the cheek and scoots a little past him, like…

…like I do when I pass Cas and he just might…yeah. WHOA.

Garth notices me notice. His smile is…I’ve seen it before, a LOT, but never on _his_ face.

Only on Cas. Or Sam.

Holy shit.

“You ain’t the only one who needs to act right unless you want a hitch in yer’ gitalong, Winchester.”

_I damn near spit out my Coke._

“You—you _knew_ …??” I shouldn’t be embarrassed, it’s Garth….but geezus I’d love it if the floor just opened up and took me right now…

He actually laughs a little, shaking his head and handing me a dish towel to wipe my slightly drippy chin.

“I know we ended up in diff’rent rooms a lot once you got with Castiel an’ I found my ladygal there, but I was still your roomie and your friend. I know you. And I got a Papa who was and still is strict as all git out; I know that ‘walk’ when you done had you a ‘talk’.”

I just gape at him like a fish, for fuck’s sake--!

“Chill dude, ain’t nuthin’ but a thang. Everybody’s relationship is…it is what it is. I make Becky happy. Cas makes you happy. And I *know* Sam makes my man Gabriel happy as a coon dog in clover. It’s all good, ain’t nobody judgin’ ‘round here.”

“I---I---fair enough, just don’t say anything to Gabe unless you *want* his head to explode.” Garth laughs and clinks Coke bottles with me while Crowley gives a little hiss in the carrier. I swear happy people make him mad.

 

Next semester’s gonna be interesting as hell.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didja like it? Tell me tell me! 
> 
> What Cas was humming, one of my all-time faves:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qscYgRLCmKI


	9. A Brat In Need is a Brat Indeed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel my bottom lip start, oh geez he hasn’t given me one single swat yet and I’m already about to fall apart, it was a long day at work and then we went out and I’m tired and mad at myself and I didn’t treat my Castiel right and---and---
> 
> Cas takes my chin and makes me look at him, his face is super serious but not…scary. I recognize the look in his eyes, strict but more warm than fiery.
> 
> I know where we’re going and I trust him to show me the way.
> 
> “Big Dean and I will have a serious discussion tomorrow. Right now, I believe my little boy needs my attention."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I was gone too long, yes I'm still alive and yes I love you all. Enjoy this Xmas present and please comment, I've missed you guys! :)

Fucking keys.

They never ever make as much noise as when you’re tryna sneak into the frickin’ house. Suddenly it sounds like there’s giant fucking wind chimes in your hand during a goddamn hurricane. Or maybe they just sound that loud so I can hear ‘em over my crazy heartbeat, THAT’S even louder…

Why I’m even bothering I don’t know; even if I pull this off Cas is gonna set my ass on fire in the morning anyway. I didn’t mean to ignore him all night, I swear I didn’t! A bunch of people from the movie theater where I work hung out and watched SPIDERMAN: HOMECOMING again because **awesome**, and went out to eat after. Seriously it was one of the best nights I’ve had all summer, my work friends rule and so do Peter Parker and Tony Stark!

(Ok hands up if when Tony actually came outta that Ironman suit that second time you thought he just might---yeah, Peter’s non-listening ass got off way easier than I would have…)

And speaking of listening, after the movie I *totally* thought I’d turned my ringer back on. 

And that my phone was on vibrate anyways. And even when I realized I’d left it in my car every time I thought I’d go to get it to text Cas like I was supposed to somebody'd order more fries and then we all went to Gail’s apartment and…

…and it’s 3am and OMFG I had like six calls and texts from Cas, and one from Sam saying I better text Cas **now**. And I should’ve right then but it was so late I chickened out like an idiot; and there’s nothin’ I can even say, because I know better. I just—maybe I can get into the house and into bed without waking anybody up, and in the morning we’ll be all warm and snuggled up and—

\--and Cas is gonna set my ass on fire. I know this, But maybe I can get some sleep first…

The place is totally dark and still. Huh, even Sam’s asleep then. Yeah it’s wicked late but it was a Friday night; sometimes he crawls out from under Gabe, or Cas or me if he’s in our bed, and reads in the living room for awhile if he’s not working the next day. But the kitchen is pitch black, glad I came in the back door. I’ve got my shoes in one hand, took ‘em off before I came in and now I’m actually creeping barefoot across the kitchen floor like a lame thief in an old cartoon. Yeah, I’m that idiot. But at least it looks like I’m gonna make it to bed and

AND OF COURSE THE LIGHTS POP RIGHT THE FUCK ON AND THERE’S CAS IN THE DOORWAY. I’m SO busted, froze with my dumb shoes in my hand and one foot in the air mid-creep, this has to look so stupid…!

“Um, h-hi Cas…” Oh yeah I'm fucking brilliant.

Nuthin’, he doesn’t even blink. The tiny red flames burning behind his eyes flicker though, it’s _terrifying;_ when I put my foot down I really wish it would sink into the floor and take the rest of me too…

He’s still not saying anything; he’s just leaning against the doorway, in just his black pajama pants with his hands in his pockets all calm. I HATE THAT. He’s just watching me but his eyes with major Dred-brow feel like hundred pound weights; If I had any sense I’d keep my mouth shut and not incriminate my dumb ass even more, but nooo as usual I puss out under the pressure and start babbling:

“I know it’s late and I know I didn’t call you back and I didn’t text I’m seriously sorry I know but we went to eat and we went to Gail’s and my phone was in the car well first it was in my pocket but see I turned off the ringer to be nice so it didn’t ring when the movie was playing and *then* it was in my car and I didn’t know and I’m real sorry and—

 _“_ Stop. That's enough. **”**

I stop. I was outta breath anyway. Damn.

Cas crooks his finger at me to come closer. I, um, really don’t wanna—

Now instead of one finger there’s three.

And now just two and now I’m *right* in front of him ‘cause I _know_ what happens if he even gets down to just one. You don’t wanna know what happens at no fingers. The U.N. doesn’t wanna know what happens at no fingers. Yeah it IS that bad--!

“You had one job, young man. One. Call me, or text, when the movie was over. Did you do either?”

Now see, back when we first got into being, well, ‘us’, here’s when I’d have started running off at the mouth again trying to explain my way out of whatever I was in trouble for and in two seconds I’d have a red stingy ass and *still* have to answer the question. I’ve learned to just shut the hell up and go straight to

“No, Sir.”

Aren’t you proud? These days I’m only kinda stupid, yay for me…

“And when I tried, several times I might add, to contact you: was your phone turned on and where you would hear it?”

Sigh. “No Sir.”

My head’s hanging, I can’t even look at him. When did my voice get so small? I sound like friggin’ Fievel from those American Tail movies; I peek: Cas does his head-tilt thing that I swear makes him taller or me smaller or some nasty combo that makes me feel about three inches from the floor.

“Hmm. It seems to me that lack of communication has been an issue in the past; one can only assume that the lesson wasn’t learned well enough last time.”

_UGH, just *thinking* about that night in Benny’s office at the Purg still makes my ass all clenchy, please I can’t take a spanking like that not tonight not ever please_

I feel my bottom lip start, oh geez he hasn’t given me one single swat yet and I’m already about to fall apart, it was a long day at work and then we went out and I’m tired and mad at myself and I didn’t treat my Castiel right and---and---

Cas takes my chin and makes me look at him, his face is super serious but not…scary. I recognize the look in his eyes now, strict but more warm than fiery.

I know where we’re going and I trust him to show me the way.

“Big Dean and I will have a serious discussion tomorrow. Right now, I believe my little boy needs my attention, yes?”

He holds out his hand. This is the minute where I have a choice, he always gives me the choice. I can say ‘no thank you Sir’, and I’ll still be in trouble but we’ll deal with it in my regular 'Big' head space; sometimes that’s what we both need me to be.

Other times…

Times like right now. I’m wiped and I feel terrible for worryin’ him and…ugh I just wanna put on my ‘jamas and get my Sass’fier and curl up into my Castiel and say sorry like a zillion more times and if I have to get a sore bottom first then I just do.

I take the hand. I love his hands, they’re warm and soft and strong and even when they’re gonna spank me an’ make me cry I still love ‘em. His hand pulls mine, nicely but he means it. He turns off the kitchen light with one hand and leads me into our room with the other. I let him take off my big boy shirt and jeans, it’s almost too hot for pajamas but my Luke Skywalker shirt and big boy underwears are ok...

As soon as my MUTE BUTTON Sassi is in I'm melting, Cas pulls me down over his knee easily. It’s so late at night he’s gonna use Loopy DE HATES Loopy, wanted to run when Cas got it out; but it’s quiet and we want quiet, don’ wanna wake up Sammy or nosy ol’ Gabe. Still don’ wan’ it though ‘cause it hurts _it hurts oh_

Cas pulls down my undies, rubs Loopy on my bottom first.

“How many times did Castiel call Dean tonight, hmm?”

_Not s’posed to talk so I hold up thee fingers and_

“OWTCHOWOWWW _!!!”_

_thee times Loopy bites me owwwwwieee--!!!_

“…and how many times did Cas text Dean _?”_

_I don’t wanna I don’ wanna please Daddy please Cas o plea--_

“Nuh-OWTCH!!”

_Cas smacks my bottom two times with his hard hand for not showing the answer I hol’ up thee more fingers fast and_

“OUCHIEOWWOW!!!” 

_Thee more please be all done please_

Cas drops Loopy on the floor by my nose. _All done all done thank you Cas all done_

“You’re grounded until Monday. No leaving this house past the backyard.”  

I nod my head. Yes, Sir.

He pulls my underwears all the way off now; he knows they sting too much after Loopy. Didn’t cry didn’t cry but I feel like I still might, tired and sorry and—

\--and we’re in the bed and under our blanket. Cas knows I’m sad ‘cause I’m sorry more than ‘cause my bottom hurts. He always knows. And his neck always smells so good, I curl into him and just breathe. 

“You were a very good boy for your spanking. Thank you. Now be my Punkin’ and go to sleep, we’ll talk more tomorrow.” I wasn’t gonna cry I wasn’t but I feel my eyes all leaky against his chest, he’s rubbing my back and I hold onto the waist of his pajama pants because he’s my Cas and I can.

The last thing I ‘member is that I *am* a good boy.

Mostly.

&+&+&+&+&

 

…Dean…?

It’s stupid late, I should be knocked out but I swear I heard—something—it sounded like---nah, can’t be. Not this time of night. If it’s what I think our Dean must’ve robbed a fuckin' bank or somethin’…

Or maybe he really didn’t come home or text like I heard about before I crashed last night--! Oooh, Castiel would definitely not wait til morning; Sam wouldn’t either I don’t think…

I gotta hear this. Normally I wouldn’t listen and Dean would do the same for me but these are Special Circumstances--!

But if Sam catches me he’ll prolly line me up right next to Dean. Gotta do this just right…

Like an otter slipping around in one of those nature channel shows I sloooowly slide myself to the edge of the bed.

Lay right on the edge and try not to move or breathe or exist for a long minute.

All good, Sam hasn’t moved a muscle. Slink one foot to the floor without even a peep from Sam, I can do this!

I lay there forever to make sure he’s really asleep, when I know he is I’m just about to slink my other foot to the floor and

“Since you’re getting’ up anyway you might as well bring me ‘Zilla. Y’know, since we’re up and all.”

Oh for—dammit!

“I wasn’t goin’ anywhere,” I mumble while I slide myself right the hell back into bed. "Just, um, stretching out my leg!”

“Keep digging this hole. I’ll stretch out your legs right over mine and you won’t like what happens next." Aw! I’m about to be a total moron and say something back but Sam grabs me to him, curls a big huge arm around me and it’s just…sigh…he gets right in my ear, all buzzy:

“Save yourself a sore seat, Spanky. Mind your business and go back to sleep. We’ll hear about it in the morning anyways.”

Sam’s right. As usual. I give up the pout I admit was coming, feel myself relax as I fall back to sleep; the brick wall behind me's already snoring a little.

 

&+&+&+&+&

 

Given the choice between a raging hangover and guilt with a heinously sore ass first thing in the morning, I honestly don’t know which one I’d pick. They both suck royal platypus dick. I hear Cas getting ready to go, he needs to be at the theater for a few hours today. I know I’m still in trouble, I imagine we’ll talk (pleeease let it be actual talking--!) tonight…

Rolling onto my side 'cuz my rear end is just NOPE, I reach over to my nightstand for my phone; need to tell Garth I can’t hang today. I won’t tell him exactly why but he’ll know because Garth, ugh…

My phone is not there. It’s *always* there. I start to look around, down on the floor in case it feel between the table and the bed—

“It’s not missing, it’s put away.”

I sit up--ow FUCK ow--and look over to Cas, still getting ready to go. He can’t mean what I think he means, can he?!

“What’s ‘put away’”?? He stands up from getting his shoes on and comes closer.  

“You know exactly ‘what’. Naughty boys who can’t be responsible lose their phones for a time. You told me you’re off until Monday anyhow. Behave and you may have it back for work on Monday morning.”

I—he—DAMMIT I NEED TO KILL AND THERE’S NO ONE I CAN MURDER FUCK

My face, I’m trying to be good but my face must say what I’m thinkin’ because now he’s one hundred percent Dred-brow; I’d be shrinking under the covers if I wasn’t all outraged and junk--!!!

 “One word, just one, and it’ll be a week from Monday. I don’t advise testing me, Punk, you’re in enough trouble.”

He’s right he’s right I totally deserve it he’s right so why do I want to smash random things with many hammers GUH

I hear his low laugh, all indulgent and loving and crap. I know I’m pouting dammit…he comes over and leans down to kiss me. I do something I’ve never done before _: I turn away so he can’t._ It feels awful, my friggin’ insides churn and my heart beats too fast. But I still don’t turn back until I think he’s gone.

And that’s not until I hear him sigh, running a hand through my hair before I can pull away like a 7 year old. I feel him leave

_It’s August how is it so cold just ‘cause Cas is gone_

and wonder what the hell’s wrong with me and if I’m gonna spend the entire weekend this fucking angry.

Apparently that’s my plan.

_& +&+&+&+&_

I honestly can’t remember the last time Dean was this, I dunno, ornery maybe…? I can’t think of a better word for the pile of crabby dude slumping at the kitchen table, nursing the same mug of coffee for at least the last hour and staring at a beat-up copy of “Scientific Progress Goes Boink!”. Usually if he’s in a funk Calvin and Hobbes will clear away the hate-clouds, but today it doesn’t seem to be helping much; I almost wish we had an actual transmogrifier, maybe it would help…meanwhile Gabe is on the other side of the table with a bowl of soup and ear buds plugged into his phone and I already know this won’t end well. He’s either oblivious to the rather large (compared to my Gabe anyway) ball of grouch called Dean or he just doesn’t care; probably a mix of the two. All I know is the way he’s off-key humming that song- _Thunder_ by Imagine Dragons I believe-and tapping his spoon on the table would irk a Dean in the best of moods. Today it might result in all of us on the news tonight. I’m observing from the living room and about to quietly suggest Gabe cut it the hell out and come in here (safe) with me when

“Gabe— **GABE!!!** ” Dean barks; Gabe startles a bit and takes out one bud, curious. So am I. Let’s see where this goes.

“Can I see your spoon real quick?” Dean’s almost smiling. I know Gabe; he not *really* paying attention and assumes Dean wants to stir his coffee or something. I’m hoping the same, but I was born ‘at’ night not ‘last’ night...

Gabe hands over the spoon, still mostly focused on his phone.

 And is utterly shocked, somehow, when Dean immediately gets up and opens the back door and throws the spoon right the hell into Cas' garden---!!! Gabriel sputters and actually squeaks with Gabe-fury; honestly it’d be adorable if he didn’t look so damn violated. And about to step to Dean on this most wrong of Days for Gabe to Step to Dean. I believe I will intervene. Yes I know that rhymes.

“What’s your problem Failchester, who the fuck pooped in your Cheerios??” Uh-huh here we go...

“Bite me Gabe, learn to eat like a human or go someplace else with all that friggin’ noise!”

"FUCK YOU ASSCHESTER DOBBY IS A FREE ELF I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT AT THE GODDAMN TABLE.” Oh yeah, my little man is livid; they look like David and Goliath squaring off, or at least David and somebody way bigger than David. Gabe actually chest bumps Dean (!), who almost looks impressed, and before he can attempt to smush my Gabriel into hummus I’m in between them facing one Mr. Winchester. Dean looks like he’d love to knock me down or somethin' but he’s not quite angry or irrational enough to try. I talk to Gabe without taking my eyes off Dean.

“Gabe, go hang with Cas for awhile.  Walk down to the theater and help him with the groceries he said he's getting after he’s done working, we’ll see you guys later.” In my periphery I see Gabe’s eyes dart back and forth between Dean and me; I know my brat, he’s sure something’s gonna go down and he’s deciding if staying will be worth the consequences. I help him along the right path.

“Gabriel? _five_.”

I almost laugh at how his brain obviously thinks _“Five? Five what?”_ for a split second before it dawns on him and confusion morphs into fake outrage.

“Aw I’m goin, you don’t gotta do all that!”

“And yet you’re still here. _Ten_.”

He's not curious enough to risk ten strokes with the implement of *my* choice. He opens his mouth to snark at me but thinks better of it. A pouty lip pokes out just enough to make him that much cuter as he leans in and rises up on his tip-toes to kiss me. I meet him half way and I shouldn’t be but I’m totally off-guard when the brat reaches behind me mid-kiss to smack Dean upside the head. Dean squawks and I thwart his attempts to get ‘round me to destroy the menace who’s fleeing out the front door. Once he’s gone, imp-giggles trailing behind him, Dean scowls at me before turning toward his room.

“And where are you going?”

“Nowhere. I’m fucking grounded if ya didn’t know. Now kindly fuck off, I’ve got a lotta nuthin’ to do and all damn weekend to do it.” And with that he slams into their room, I even hear the dishes in the cabinet behind me rattle. I also hear the CLICK when he locks their door.  

Yeah no. HELL no. No way he’s getting away with all that nonsense I just saw.

Not on my watch.

I get out my phone and text Castiel. At this point we know each other, and each other’s brats, so well that it doesn’t take very much discussion; I text

* **May I?***

And not even a minute later I get back

***By all means.***

Good. That’s all I needed.

I stop into my room to grab a certain something I’ll need before knocking on Cas and Dean’s door.  

“Go away Sammy, don’t wanna talk right now.”

Not an option. I knock a little harder.

“Dean? You need to unlock this door.”

“I said go ‘way Sam, seriously FUCK OFF.”

“Last chance dude, open up. I won’t ask again.”

“The fuck you gonna do man, bust open the door? I SAID FU—“

Before he can finish telling me yet again to fuck off I’ve fucked on. Or whatever you wanna call what my foot just did to the now-open door. I'm, um...strong. 

“GEEZUS CHRIST SAM YOU MANIAC---!!!!!!” Dean’s scrambled to the other side of his room, staring at the door hanging by two of three hinges; his eyes anime-huge. He was expecting a few possibilities but not this. 

I shrug. “We’re never getting our deposit outta McLeod anyway.”

He’s gaping at the door, way too freaked out to remember just how mad he’s supposed to be. And while I’ve got him out of that nasty place in his head…I call his name and when he looks at me I wave him over. With the hand holding ‘Zuki.

 ‘C’mere. We need to talk about a few things.”

 

**TO BE CONTINUED :^)**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two coming sooo soon, I mean it for once! Hope you liked part one, tell me if you did and MERRY HOLIDAYS!!!


End file.
